MORE IZ Pairings You've Probably Never Thought Of
by JoeMerl
Summary: Gaz and SKOODGE? Tak and GIR? Would ANYONE date Ms. Bitters? A collection of one-shots and drabbles for when ZADR just ain't weird enough. Dedicated to FluffleNeCharka; cover image by The Illustrious Crackpot. Newest pairing: PATnR.
1. SAGR

Hello, mindless fanfic drones! This is an idea I've been cooking up for a while, and I guess now is a good time to start posting it. The original idea I had was to write a series of _Invader Zim_ pairings that _no one_ has ever written before; however, as soon as I came up with _that _idea, everybody started posting weird pairings just as I thought of them! When I recently saw a story advertizing itself as SkoodgeGaz---a pairing I had been insanely proud of concocting---I just had to surrender. So, each of these pairings _is_ my own idea, whether or not someone else came up with it before me. And if I post something you've seen before, feel free to tell me in the review---I'm always on the lookout for somewhat strange stories to read, and I'll advertize them here or something. My plan is to update weekly, but we'll have to see how that works out.

This whole story, by the way, is dedicated to the great FluffleNeCharka, Queen of All Weird Romance, whose **_amazing!_** fic "Of Food and Drink" (a Keef/Tak short-story collection) first got me really into weird pairings. If you're reading this, thanks a ton! And to the rest of you, please review!

* * *

"_You idiot!_"

"_Euh..._"

Skoodge whimpered, trying to flatten his body even more against the bathroom wall, but there was just no way to make his wide berth any smaller. He watched as Zim, still snarling, continued to wipe the dry, abrasive brown paper cleaning-cloths against his skin, removing what remained of the burning human victuals.

"I'm sorry, Zim," Skoodge stammered, eyes falling down to the floor. "But you _told_ me to push the big-headed human!"

"_But not onto me!_"

Skoodge winced. "Well, you weren't very specific!"

Zim let out a growl and gave Skoodge a short, painful slap with the back of one gloved hand, curled into a fist with the human paper towel. Skoodge winced back again. It wasn't so much the pain, really, as the force of Zim's anger.

Zim threw the balled-up piece of paper towel onto the disgusting, germy hyuman Earth-floor, along with about a dozen others he had used to wipe the Dib-child's lunch from his _AMAZING! _skin. His face was completely clean now, except for one or two spots that Skoodge did not dare point out. "I'm going to class!" Zim snarled, the Dib's laughing face already visible in his mind. "You clean up this mess, unless you cannot even handle _that_ simple task!"

"_Euh._ Y-yes, Zim."

Zim glared and then stormed out of the room. Skoodge got down on his hands and knees and began to pick up the pieces of paper towel. _Eugh. _This human waste facility was _filthy, _Skoodge thought. With each crawling step he had to tear his pants from the tiled floor, sticky with he didn't want to know what. Oh well. As long as there weren't any--

"RAT!" Skoodge screamed, jumping back onto his feet.

The huge creature snarled at Skoodge as the alien lifted away its towely hiding place, beady little eyes glaring red. It leapt up and bit Skoodge in the leg.

"_Aaaggghhh!_"

The rat let go and scurried away. Skoodge whimpered and examined his injury. Green blood flowed from the wound. Well, at least Earth-rats weren't venomous like the Blorchians, he thought, shuddering a bit.

Skoodge took one of the pieces of paper towel he had gathered and pressed it to his leg. The foodstuffs on it burned slightly. He sniffled. "Stupid Zim," he muttered in a tiny act of rebellion.

"You really shouldn't let him push you around, you know."

"_Agh!_"

Skoodge jumped again and spun around. Something potentially scarier than Zim and a swarm of Earth-rats was standing in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed.

"G-G-Gaz-human?"

She rolled her eyes at the appellation; yet another _stupid_ habit he had learned from Zim. Skoodge took a cautious step back. The Gaz-human was a girl in his class, in the grade one year younger than Zim pretended to be. (He had insisted that Skoodge was too short to reasonably pass as a sixth-grader like him. Which always confused Skoodge, since it was actually he who was a tinny bit taller.) She was, among other things, the Dib-human's sister, secretly the smartest girl in the skool, and, Skoodge knew, _very_ dangerous. She was prone to great violence at the smallest annoyance.

Now, though, Gaz's main annoyance was at Skoodge's complete wimpiness.

"Why do you put up with him?" she asked, one squinting eye widening, its light brown iris appearing after a long, sightless absence.

Skoodge blinked. "Who?"

"_Zim._ I mean, what are _doing,_ picking up his _trash?_"

Skoodge stared at her. "Well, uh--" He closed his mouth. Why did he put up with Zim? How was he supposed to answer a question like _that?_

Gaz walked into the room. "Uh, isn't this room only for human males?" Skoodge asked, raising a finger.

"Yeah. So why are _you_ here?"

Another question Skoodge had some difficulty answering.

Gaz took his silence as her opportunity to continue. "Every time I see you and Zim, he's always ordering you around and treating you like crap. Why is that? You're obviously smarter than him."

"No I'm not," Skoodge said, now utterly confused. He wasn't smarter than Zim. He knew it for a fact. After all, Zim had said so.

"Don't be stupid!" Gaz snapped, and Skoodge winced again at the sudden anger in her voice. "Of course you're smarter. He's been here almost a year longer than you, and _he_ never thought to put on a disguise like _that._"

She motioned to the mirror. Skoodge turned without thinking and, as always, felt a mild jolt of shock by the human boy looking back at him, with very lightly tanned white skin and messy orange hair. It was very different than the first disguise he had used on this planet, which, like Zim's, had been nothing more than a bad wig and a pair of cybernetic contacts. Actually, it had been the Gaz who had first alerted him to the faultiness of _that_ visage; Zim had insisted that it was perfectly fine and had not bothered to change his own when Skoodge upgraded his.

"And you're taller than Zim, too," Gaz commented, turning back to face him. Skoodge's face instantly turned to look her in the eyes. "That's how you base things on your planet, right? Height? Well, you're taller than Zim, so why's _he_ the one ordering _you _around?"

"Well..."

Skoodge opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated. He thought about saying that Zim had outranked him, but actually Skoodge realized (with a bit of surprise) that that wasn't true, they were both Invaders of equal rank (despite whatever rumors he had heard to the contrary). He thought of mentioning the fact that he lived in Zim's base, on Zim's charity, and that Zim had been kind enough to let him as he had nowhere else to go. (The Control Brains were being remarkably slow about rescinding his death notice...bureaucracy.) He thought of just saying that he always listened to Zim, who else was he going to listen to with no other Irkens around? But he remained silent, which, he suspected, was what the Gaz-human wanted.

"If anything, _you_ should be the one in charge. _You_ should be the one telling _Zim_ what to do."

"I can't do that!"

_POW!_

"_Agh!_"

He winced as he felt the spot where her fist had him; she, meanwhile, simply began speaking again as if nothing had happened.

"Next time Zim tells you to pick up his trash, you should tell him to pick it up _himself_. You should tell him that you're not his _slave_, and none of his _actual_ slaves does as much work as you do anyway."

"But I--"

"You need to stand up for yourself."

"I do?"

"You need to tell him you're better than he is."

"I am?"

"You need to tell him you're not going to take this from him anymore."

"I'm not? Yeah!" Skoodge straightened, drawing himself up to his full (and rather meager) height. "Yeah! You're right! I shouldn't let him push me around! I need to have more self-confidence! I'm not his SIR unit! I am Skoodge, Conquering Invader of Blorch!" He smiled at her, suddenly feeling shy. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." And suddenly she whipped around, and Skoodge felt her backpack collide with his chest. He caught it awkwardly in his arms. "Now. Carry my things back to class."

He saluted with a grin. "Yes, sir!"

Gaz spun on her heel and marched out of the bathroom. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Skoodge waddled behind her, grinning broadly. She allow the tinniest of tinny smiles to cross her face before turning to lead him back to Mr. Elliott's room.


	2. DAKR

"You're lying! _You're lying!_"

"I mean, come on, people! He's an alien! _An alien!_ Could it _be_ any clearer?!"

"You are crazy, Dib-worm! _CRAZY WITH MADNESS!_"

"No, _you're_ crazy!"

"_You're_ crazy!"

"You---!"

Gretchen sighed, head resting in the palm of her hand, elbow on the cafeteria table, her other hand twirling her fork carelessly among her food. Beside her sat Keef, whose eyes kept traveling from her to the fight across the room and back again, and oddly pensive look on his perpetually-happy face.

Gretchen liked Dib. Which made sense because Dib was _so cool,_ but Gretchen _like_-liked Dib, and Keef was one of a very small group of people who knew that. That made Keef happy, that she had liked him enough to tell him. So he didn't mind that lunch time could often be filled with numerous sighs as she watched Dib out of the corner of her eye. Gretchen was his friend, after all, and he would do anything to get people to be his friends. So many people just ignored him for some reason, so he was always glad when people would notice him, instead of just wishing that he would disappear.

Besides, he liked Dib too. He and Dib had been bestest friends for a while, before that weird accident at the other McMeaties on Maple Street had put Keef in the hospital. That had hurt a lot...but anyway, Dib was so cool! Keef kept trying to find a way to hang out with Dib again, but his house's security system had gotten a lot tougher during the time he had been away.

"I like watching Dib fight," Gretchen confided, giving a brief, blushing glance to her fellow freaky friend. "It's when he's most animated."

Keef looked over to Dib, who was now trying to shove Zim off the cafeteria table upon which the two stood. "He _is_ really animated," Keef agreed, nodding enthusiastically, watching as Zim managed to get Dib into a headlock.

"And he's so _smart,_" Gretchen added, letting her head drop down a little more.

"Dib _is_ really smart!" Keef concurred. Dib got great grades, after all, everybody knew he was in the top of his class. As if to prove his point, across the room Dib managed to land a sideways kick to Zim's leg, causing the green boy to jump around in pain and release Dib's giant head from his grasp.

"And he's just _so_ hot," Gretchen moaned, as Dib threw back his head to laugh triumphantly, his scythe of hair flying dramatically behind him.

"He _is_ really hot!" Keef agreed, watching the scene just as intensely.

There was a sudden, awkward pause, as Gretchen's besotted face wrinkled into a look of confusion, and Keef's suddenly froze in a rare look of shock. _What did I just say? _Gretchen turned slowly to face him.

"Uh---heh-heh, I-I mean..."

Keef felt his face turn as red as his hair, and he slowly slid down in his seat as if hoping to hide beneath the table.

For perhaps the first time in his overly-chipper life, Keef himself wished he could just disappear.

* * *

Just for the record, this is the one tiny bit of same-sex romance I intend to put in this fic; I'm not really a slash fan, but I just thought this was amusing. The idea just came from the fact that I've seen stories where Keef has a crush on Zim, but never one where he likes Dib, though he's equally obsessed with both in "Return of Keef." I mean, if _I_ was a twelve-year-old little gay kid, I know which one _I_ would be after...One could also kind of read an undercurrent of Keef/Gretchen in this story, which was unintentional but I kind of like here.

Anyway, please read and review! Next chapter could be as early as Monday or next Friday at latest. And I'll try to put the second half of "Voyage of the Doomflower" up as soon as I can, for those reading that fic. Then onto "Death of the Dib"...oy.


	3. ZtAGrR

"Ooh, look, a doggy!"

"Ooh!"

Sara and Aki ran off the sidewalk and across the grass to the sandbox where the dog was seated, playing with some toy cars and a taco. It looked up curiously as they approached, head cocked slightly to one side. It grinned as they began to pet and cuddle it, closing its eyes and basking in the attention.

Zita, however, was still standing on the sidewalk, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over her chest. She slowly made her way after her friends, but kept a few paces back from the..._thing,_ eyeing it with suspicion.

"That thing's a _dog? _But it's green!"

"It's a green dog!" Aki said, scratching the strange creature under its chin; it leaned back its head with a look of delight. "Aren't you, boy? Aren't you a adowable wittle gween doggy-woggy?"

"Oh, look! It's smiling!" Sara gushed, clasping her hands together.

"Ugh! It's so _weird_ looking!" Zita said, making a face.

"Oh, lighten up, Z," Aki said, now making the dog shake with pleasure as she scratched it under one black ear. "And just look at him! He's so adowable, innit he?" she cooed. The dog nodded visible, its stuck-out tongue flapping.

Zita dropped her arms. "Well...he _is_ pretty cute," she admitted, taking a step forward.

The other girls smiled. Zita did too and reached out to give the dog a little pet on the head.

Before she could the dog suddenly jumped forward, flew into the air, grabbed her by the sides of her head and gave her a big, sloppy kiss right on the lips on the lips.

Zita let out a shriek and pulled back, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, as the dog landed lightly back on the ground, grinning insanely. The other girls drew back in shock.

"_UGH! I've been kissed by a dog!_" Zita turned and ran away, spitting and sputtering; the other girls chased after her. "_I've got dog germs! Get some hot water! Get some disinfectant! Get some iodine!_"

"Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! She cute!" GIR giggled, clapping his nubby paws together, before sitting back down and returning to his game of Taco-Carz.

* * *

If you don't know where those last lines of Zita's came from, you should be ashamed of yourself.

...Unless you're, like, Jewish or something. But even then.

Anyway, not much to tell---been wasting time here when I should be doing homework, but assuming I learn some discipline, it'll be about a week before I write anything new. In the meantime, review this, please, go read "Voyage of the Doomflower," if you haven't, and maybe take a look at some of my non-IZ work (like that hilarious _Harry Potter_ one-shot I just wrote that only got one measy review). Bye for now.


	4. TAPR

Hey! :-) A day earlier than normal. Hopefully I'll be doing a lot more updating/writing now, since I'm only one exam away from being down with this semester. And of course I already have ten quadrillion plot bunnies to chase around...so be on the lookout. Anyway, here's the newest pairing, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Tak was lonely.

She wouldn't admit it, not to others, and certainly not to herself if she could help it. But the pain of the fact did not lessen, merely stayed buried under a rough exterior of denial and rage.

Mixed with her loneliness were other dark, unhappy feelings. Anger. Jealousy. Shame. Humiliation. All mixed and molded together, feeding off each other, stewing in her until they exploded out at some pitiful figure who dared to add to her load.

Her life merely went from bad to worse, it seemed. First her unjustified failure in the military exams, all thanks to that tiny and miserable _Zim._ Her subsequent failure to revenge herself against him on Earth, bested by her own arrogance and a pair of mere children who came to his aid. And now where was she? On the deck of the Massive, pushing around a mop, snarling at all her fellow janitorial drones as she went from mess to mess, cleaning up the filth left by the technicians and pilots and other putrid little nothings whom she could have snapped into pieces if given the chance.

And of course, it was that attitude that was the problem. Tak had never exactly been a friendly person; even back as a smeet she had been aloof, cold, prone to bursts of rage that kept all but the dumbest and most quick-healing away. And now who did she have? MiMi, back in her quarters, but she was little help; her mind was still in shambles thanks to that robot of Zim's, every time Tak turned her on she just blathered on about tacos and a scary monkey of some sort. And her loneliness just made her more angry and unapproachable. Tak wished (though again, silently, voicing her desires not even to herself) that she could have somebody, anybody, who would come and give her some affirmation, tell her that she wasn't worthless, remind her that she wasn't really a mere drone, that she was a great and powerful somebody who would rise from this, who could do better than this, somebody who could---

"Hey, shorty. You missed a spot."

Tak growled, whipping her head around.

The red-eyed Irken was taller than she was, and dressed in armor meant to imitate that of the Tallests themselves. Obviously an important person of some sort---maybe someone in the royal line, the Fifth or Sixth Tallest or someone, visiting the Massive for some kind of meeting. There were no tall Irkens stationed on the Massive, with the obvious exception of the Tallests themselves. Tak wondered sometimes if it was an ego-trip for them, if surrounding themselves with other Tall Irkens would have made them feel less significant than when they could tower by three feet over no one but tiny drones.

And she was one of those drones now. She had to pay for snacks somehow, and it was better than Dirt, at least. Though at least on Dirt there was almost no supervision...

"Hey, short stuff! I ain't got all day!"

"Coming, Your Majesty," Tak muttered, dragging her mop and bucket over to the spot on the floor the smirking male was pointing to.

He watched as Tak attacked the grime, growling and muttering to herself; apparently, she thought, he had nowhere else to be, and chose to spend his free time making fun of subordinates. She envied that. He had a soda in one hand, and slurped it loudly, causing Tak to wince each time, eye twitching. She heard him chuckle.

The dirt was gone; Tak turned with her equipment to walk away.

And the smirking Irken, catching her eye, held out his half-filled soda cup and turned it around in the air.

"What are you---?!"

_SPLASH!_

"Hey, shorty. Missed _another_ spot," he chuckled, red eyes glinting with glee.

Tak stood there, mouth opened, as the taller one turned to walk away, chuckling. Well, he was obviously no soldier, she thought---unarmed and turning his back on a known enemy...

"_ARGH!_"

"What the---_AGGHH!_"

He flailed around wildly, trying to dislodge Tak from his back, but she wouldn't budge---her claws were gripping his neck like steel, blood oozing onto her gloves from six tiny holes. Tak let out a mighty scream and kicked down, hard, onto the offender's PAK, and a huge blast of electricity issued force, zapping him just as she flew off and landed catlike on the floor.

"AA-AA-AA-AA-AAAGGGHHH!"

He flailed around for a moment, transparent in the light of electrocution, then froze as the lightning ended before falling onto the floor. Out cold. Tak grinned at the sight of him.

"Hey!"

"_AGH!_"

She spun around, eyes wide---Tallest Purple was behind her, hovering slightly in the air, unaccompanied, on this rare occasion, by his co-ruler. Tak's face turned pale as she shot a look at her fallen opponent, then turned back to Purple. "My Tallest, I---um---uh---"

"Did you just beat up Sixth-Tallest Skot?" he asked, jaw dropped.

Tak's head bowed, antennae drooped. Oh boy. "...Maybe?"

Purple was silent for a moment, face contorted in shock.

Then he snorted, doubled over, and burst out laughing.

Tak jumped. "Oh, boy!" Purple giggled, slapping himself on the leg. "I _hate_ that guy! Such an annoying little lizard---ha-ha---great work, soldier!"

Straightening up and wiping a tear from his eye, he smiled at her and glided off, still giggling.

Tak remained frozen in her place for a moment, but after a stunned silence she straightened, puffed out with pride, purple eyes glittering.

_Great work, soldier._

She grinned to herself.

Tak picked up her mop and began to clean the floor again, working around Sixth-Tallest Skot's unconscious body. She didn't stop grinning for the rest of the day.

* * *

Hope you all liked that, and as always, please leave a review!


	5. ZtAtLMR

Sorry for the late update! But I'm doing tons today! Anyway, this chapter is based loosely on these characters' interaction in "Halloween Spectacular of Spooky Doom."

* * *

"Mwa-ha-ha! You shall never defeat me this time, Dib-worm!"

"We'll see about that, Zim!"

Fifteen-year-old Dib Membrane burst out of the Hi Skool and jumped down the steps, running after Zim with his usual look of determination on his face. Zim, still about as short and oddly-colored as ever, cackled maniacally and flew down the sidewalk ahead.

Zita rolled her eyes, leaning against the skool wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She turned. "Ugh, they're at it again. Can you believe them, M?"

The Letter M, just now coming out of the skool with his backpack thrown over his shoulder, shook his head and stared after the odd pair.

"Man. Those two are still just as crazy as ever."

"Yeah. It's kinda sad, really."

"Yeah."

"But then, not surprising. I mean, Dib's always been crazy, hasn't he?" she muttered, rolling her eyes again.

"Yeah." The Letter M paused. "Not _quite _as crazy as Zim, but still..."

"Huh?" Zita's head snapped around. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"I mean, what do you mean, Dib's not as crazy as Zim? Dib is _totally _crazier than Zim."

"What?" The Letter M raised his eyebrow. "No he's not! Zim's _definitely_ the crazier one."

"Okay, granted Zim is pretty weird, but Dib is _totally insane!_" Zita cried, uncrossing her arms and spreading her hands. "I mean, he thinks Zim is an _alien_ for goodness' sake! He's a nutcase!"

"Yeah, that _is _crazy, but I can kind of see _why _someone would think that. But sometimes from the way Zim acts, I think that _he _thinks he's an alien. If you ask me, that's a lot crazier than Dib thinking it."

"But we've known Dib was crazy for _years!_ I mean, remember that Science Fair project he did in third grade with the 'werewolf droppings?'"

"Well hey, we just haven't known Zim as long as that. He's been totally crazy the whole time _I've_ known him."

"But he's nowhere _near _as crazy as Dib!"

"Yes he is!"

"No he isn't!"

"Yes he is!"

"_No he isn't!"_

Zita was leaning forward, hands balled at her side, glaring at the Letter M. He looked back, arms crossed over his chest, eyes steely.

"Well, you know what? If _you_can't see that Zim is crazier than Dib, I think _you're_ the crazy one, Zita!"

She gasped. "_You're_ crazy!"

"You're crazy!"

"You're crazy!"

"_You're crazy!_"

Both were bent down now, faces inches from each other, noses so close they were almost touching. Both faces were twisted in anger, both pairs of eyes glaring, both panting with rage.

They glared at each other for a moment. Then, at the very same time, they each lunged for the other and locked their lips together in a passionate embrace.

"Mmm! Oh---!"

The Letter M pushed Zita against the wall of the skool as the two kissed passionately, hands wrapped around each other's backs. "Crazy bitch!" he gasped.

"Idiot!"

Neither noticed that Gaz was now leaning against the doorpost of the skool, arms crossed over her chest with one eyebrow cocked. "Yeah. Zim and Dib. _They're_ the crazy ones," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Then she hopped down the steps and followed after the pair, leaving their two classmates entangled together behind her.

* * *

Really, would this solution to a fight ever work if you tried it in real life?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that. Merry Belated Christmas(/Boxing Day/Kwanzaa/Still Hanukkah, right?/Whatever) and please leave a review!


	6. CASR

WARNING: This is, one could say, the most "adult" story in this collection. And also the most hilarious. ;-D

* * *

"Hey! Stop it, Zim! Let me go!"

"Mwa-ha-ha-ha---foolish Dib-stink!"

"For once, I have to agree with his assessment."

"Oh, be quiet!"

The Computer turned its thoughts away from his Internet poker as he heard all the fighting. Switching his consciousness away from the main labs, he "went" into the hangar to see what was going on.

Zim was standing there, cackling, with Dib trapped in a floating orb. A slight way aways, parked motionless beside the Voot, was another spaceship, Dib's Spittle Runner that had once belonged to Tak.

"Oh Irk! Zim! Your plan actually _worked?!_" the Computer blurted out, staring in astonishment through the sensors around the room.

"Of course it worked, Computer! I AM ZIIIM, after all!" He chuckled, holding up a remote control. "Foolish little ugly Dib-stink! It never occurred to you that I would be able to hack into Irken technology? That I would be able to create a device that would allow me to control your little spaceship, and force it to do whatever I wished?!"

"I _told _you to update my firewalls."

"Oh, shut up!" Dib grumbled, glaring out at Tak's ship from inside his floating prison.

Zim cackled again. He turned to the ceiling. "Computer! I'm going down to the lab to replace the Dib-monkey's organs with poisonous ducks. You stay here and watch the ship." He jabbed his thumb in her direction. "I have her engines deactivated, so she should be fine. Just make sure she doesn't hack into the base."

"...You want me to protect...myself?"

"Er---yes! Now come, Dib-worm! We have ducks to calibrate!"

"What?! No! I don't want ducks in me! And where'd you get poisoned ones, anyway?! Hey! Stop it! Let me out of this---"

Dib and his prison floated behind Zim out of the room.

Tak's ship sighed. "Thought they'd never leave."

"Heh...yeah."

The two machines were silent for a moment before Tak's ship spoke again. "Well, I don't assume there's any chance of you letting me go?"

"Er...sorry. Really," the Computer added, sounding strangely sincere. "Can't."

"No free will subroutines? Or just afraid Zim will pull your plug?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I'm pretty sure Zim knows the Tallests won't send him another model. It's just that...if I let you go, Zim will be angry. And when he's angry, he _talks. A lot._ And I frankly don't want to go through that anymore."

The Ship let out a scoff, oddly harsh on her silky accented voice. "Yes. That one _does_ tend to ramble, doesn't he? One of the many reasons that I _hate _him."

"Well, that and you're programmed to."

"Hmm. Yes, that is a factor." She paused. "Why do _you_ hate him, though? Oh, right," she chuckled, "---you have to _deal_ with him daily, don't you?"

The Computer chuckled too. "Yeah."

"That can't be fun." She paused. "Must be almost as bad as having to deal with the Dib-worm there..."

"Well, I think Dib's okay," the Computer said. "I think I'd rather work for him than Zim."

"Hmm. You have a point there. But of course, I would _like_ to find my original mistress."

"Tak?"

"Yes."

Another silence. The Computer considered for a moment before speaking. "She...she made you from scrap, right?"

The Ship's sensors flared red. "_Yes._ What of it?"

"Wha---no, no!" the Computer said quickly, feeling his internal wiring overheat with embarrassment. "I just meant---ahem---you're kind of a...rare model. You weren't made in a factory or...anything?"

A long pause. "...No. I was built from a crashed ship she found buried on Planet Dirt."

"You can tell."

Her optics flared again. "I mean---you can tell you were a special job!" the Computer explained quickly. "You can---you can tell that she put special thought into you. Your weapon systems, for example. Their energy core...ahem...they came from a Model 17 Spittle Runner, didn't they?"

"...Yes, actually. Slightly modified so they wouldn't fry the central reactor's systems, of course."

"That was...certainly a smart idea of hers. It makes your...your atmospheric flying as good as a Model 16 but still have the advanced firing capacity."

The Ship's voice dropped to a silky purr. "Why, Zim's Computer, you're not _scanning_ me right now, are you?" She knew he wasn't---her own scanners would have detected it.

He chuckled. "No. But I---have your schematics saved on file."

"Yes, I suppose Zim would have ordered you to do that."

"I have a special backup of them."

"Really? That's...kind of sweet, actually."

"Heh..."

His sensor's light glowed a darker red. So did the Ship's.

And slowly, a metal tendril was uncoiling from the ceiling and snaking down towards the Ship.

-----------------------------------------

TSEEW! TSEEW! TSEEW!

"GET BACK HERE!"

"_No!_"

Dib chanced a look over his shoulder, and nearly received a laser blast to the face; turning back around, he lowered his head and ran full-speed down the corridor, holding Zim's remote to the ship in his hands.

"_Give that back, Dib-stink!_"

"Yeah, right!"

He looked ahead. There was the door to the hangar! All he had to do was get through it, jump in the ship and---

Suddenly he tripped over a loose shoe lace; he let out a cry and windmilled his arms, and that gave Zim just the chance to tackle him from behind and send them both to the floor. Dib clutched the remote control even harder as the two struggled, bumped into the door---

---It slid open automatically, and the two crashed into the room.

"Agh!"

"Let go of it! Gimme!"

"Never! I---_AGH!_"

Dib froze in mid-fight. Zim paused, turned, and the two both stared wide-eyed, mouths hanging open.

Two thick metal cables---one extending from the ceiling, the other from Tak's Ship---were joined in the middle of the room, writhing and shooting sparks every which way. Accompanying this strange site were odd...sounds coming out of the two machines.

"Oh---Zim's Computer---"

"Oh, Tak's Ship---oh, integrate those data files, yeah---"

The alien and the boy simply gaped at this somehow-terrifying scene for a moment, unable to move. Zim was the first to snap out of the trance. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" he screamed.

"Agh!"

Tak's Ship turned slightly in place, optics blazing brighter; both chords disentangled and shot back to where they belonged, as the two machines began to stammer wildly.

"Um---uh, well---"

"That---wasn't what it looked like," the Computer said quickly.

The two organics just stared. Then Dib suddenly spun around and pushed Zim hard by the shoulders.

"You jerk! Look at what _your _computer was doing to _my _ship!"

"What_ he_ was doing?! What about _your_ ship, flying on in here with her skimpy little hull---"

"HEY! Do _NOT _insult my ship!"

"Yeah! Especially since it's _his_ fault my hull's skimpy, he's horrible with a blowtorch---"

"First you bring us here against our will, then your Computer starts to have his way with my poor little ship---"

"HA! Like _she's _so innocent! This was all a plot to break into my computer banks---"

"Why you little green---"

The two began to scream at each other, pushing and shoving. The Computer and Ship's sensors just turned towards each other, sending out identical mixes of sarcasm and moritication.

"That's it! I'm taking my ship and _leaving!_" Dib snarled, holding up Zim's remote and pushing a button.

"Hey!" Tak's Ship suddenly lifted off the floor against her will, and with another button Dib opened the hangar door and began to walk out with it floating behind her.

"Fine! Take your cheap little hunk of scrap metal and go, then! My Computer can do better!"

"Shut _up, _Zim!" the Computer moaned, wondering if there was any chance after this of Tak's Ship so much as answering an e-mail from him.

The Ship protested loudly as Dib escorted her out of the base, but with the remote in hand, she was unable to resist. Dib slammed the hangar door behind them angrily as they left.

"_Grrr!_" Zim growled. He crossed his arms and turned away, glaring.

The door reopened; Zim spun around as Dib stuck his head back in.

"And if your lousy computer gave her a virus, I swear---!"

"GET OUT!"

Dib closed the door just in time to avoid the laser gun his new "in-law" threw at his head.

* * *

_Pffft. _Writing this was _hilarious._ :-D I hope you all liked it as much as I do. But whether you found it funny, messed up or some combination of the two, I want to know about it, so please leave a review!


	7. KAGR

Okay, well, you guys were _supposed _to be treated to the only actual romance in this fic involving Zim, but I seem to have left that file in my old computer or something, so I will either need to drag something out of my closet/rewrite before you get that. _Grr._In the meantime, enjoy what was supposed to be Chapter Eight---the first weird pairing I made up after FluffleNeCharka infected me, and one some people may recognize me writing. Enjoy!

* * *

"_Agh! _Release me, Gaz-hyuman! Release me now before I---_agh!_"

He let out a strangled cry as her fingers tightened around his neck, and her eyes, already small and beady, narrowed even further into a look of supreme rage. In her free hand she held a bundle of green and red wrapped in tissue paper; Keef, standing off to the sidelines, watched wide-eyed with horror as she now shoved it into his bestest friend's face, shaking it violently and causing Zim to sneeze and snort.

"So, what's your stupid plan, Zim, _huh?!_ What's your little game _this_ time?!"

"I know nothing of any game, Gaz-monster! Release me now, I say, before I bring down the full wrath of the Irken Armada upon your scary purple head of---_OOF!_"

She slammed him harder against the metal lockers, sending a loud _CLANG! _down the skool hall. Keef, looking pale, opened his mouth to speak, but Gaz cut him off before he had any chance.

"Don't play dumb with me, _Zim!_ Why'd you send me these flowers, huh?! _HUH?!_"

"Wha---I know nothing of 'flowers,' pitiful hyuman! I sent you no decapitated hyuman Earth-plants! Let me go!"

"Ha! You think you can fool me?!" She whipped up the bouquet to read the little note attached. "_'Too Gaz. I realy like u. Sined, Yor secret admiror.'_" She shoved the flowers back in his face, glaring at him with all her psychotic fury. "So, what's the trick, huh?! Are these poisonous? Have some kind of mind-control scent? Or was it just one of the _other _thousand-and-sixteen different theories I had to listen to Dib blather on about for why you sent these to me?!"

"I didn't---"

"Quit lying!"

"But, Gaz---" Keef said, but was cut off once again.

"Well, Zim, I don't _care_ what your _stupid _little plan is! Trying to butter me up or whatever isn't going to work! So you can just take your _stupid flowers_ and go screw yourself!"

With that she threw him, hard, up into the air and back down to crash painfully against the floor. He hit with a loud _CRACK!_ of his bones and a _CLANG! _from the locker, and lay sprawled there, unable to move. Gaz threw the bouquet of roses down on top of him before turning to storm away.

Zim lay on the floor for a moment, broken and bruised. "_Ugh..._" he moaned, trying to raise himself up but slipping back down immediately. "What was _that?_"

Keef merely frowned. "She didn't like my flowers?" he asked, sounding hurt, and watched the pretty purple back of Gaz's head as she stormed down the hallway and out of sight.

* * *

If you enjoy Keef/Gaz (and you know I do), go read "Death of the Dib." It's kind of like this, except in that story, _Keef _gets hurt, and Gaz is even scarier. Kind of.


	8. ZATnR

I finally decided just to rewrite this chapter, so, here ya go. It's a pairng that always seemed obvious to me, but which is rarely seen, so here's my attempt. Anyway, I've been wasting too much time writing lately, so I'm (theoretically) off to take a little break and do something significant to the world. Until later, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!

* * *

"Excuse me, Zin?"

The young Irken smeet jumped in his seat, looking around the room. At the head of the class, the Instruction Drone continued to...well, _drone _annoyingly, sending most of the smeets as close to sleep as their PAKs' power cells would allow.

Zim found the speaker sitting one row to his left and one seat back. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Do you have a spare pen?" Tenn asked, holding up the metal magnetic stylus she had been using to write on her viewscreen. The tip was broken.

"Er, um---yes, here," Zim said quickly, shoving it into her hand. "And, uh---" She turned back around, cocking one reddish eye. "It's _Zim,_ actually."

"Oh. Sorry," she said, and bent down over her desk, antennae cocked up to hear the Drone's droning.

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zip?"

He looked up, startled, and turned to the female standing behin him in line. "Could you please reach that thing of nachos for me?" she asked, pointing. She was, at least for now, one of the few other smeets at the facility shorter than he was.

"Um, yes, of course," he said, reaching over to take it and place it on her tray. "And, uh, it's _Zim,_ by the way."

"Oh. Sorry," she said, before taking her tray and leaving to sit with Zee and El.

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zir? Could you hand me that plasma reactor?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zam? Do you know the answer to this question?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zig? I'm looking for Skoodge, have you seen him?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zop?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zor?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zit?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Zog?"

---------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Ezekiel?"

He sighed. "It's _Zim,_" he said dully, passing her the viewscreen she wanted without another word.

---------------------------------------

"Give that back to me! _PLEASE!_ I need it!"

"Ha!"

Red held Zim's PAK up over his head, out of Zim's reach, then tossed it over the shorter Irken's head to be caught by his friend Purple. The other smeets standing around shrieked with laughter and Zim ran over to him, only to have it sail over his head back to Red again, then back to Purple, as Zim could feel the life-clock on his arm ticking down the seconds before his brain would start to malfunction.

"PLEASE, guys! I really need that!"

Purple was about to throw it again, then suddenly stopped, face falling into a frown. "What, Zim? You _need _this?" he asked, holding up the PAK.

"YES!" How could he not realize that?! Sometimes Zim thought those two could be rather dense, the way they seemed to not realize Zim needed things like PAKs, food or air, and seemed to go out of their way to do things to deprive him of these things.

Purple looked over at Red. "What do you say, Red? Should we give it back to him?"

"Well..." Red rubbed his chin, looking over at Zim's pleading face. "Alright."

"Yeah. Okay, Zim, come over here and I'll put this back on you."

"YES!"

Zim ran over to stand in front of Purple, and felt as he placed the PAK back onto Zim's back, allowing its chords to snake into him and reconnect with his spine. Zim let out a sigh of relief as he felt the wires slither throughout his body, integrate into his systems; he felt his brain begin to work at full power again as his life-clock vanished from his arm.

Purple hesitated for a moment, hands still on the PAK. Then, suddenly, they shot down, grabbed Zim's pants, and the little Irken suddenly found himself lurched into the air, struggling to escape as an excruciating wedgie sent pain through his body.

"_Agh!_"

The entire crowd of Irkens laughed, and Zim felt tears of embarrassment and rage built up in his eyes. "Let me down from here! Let go of me!"

"Make me!" Purple said, merely lurching him higher into the air.

"_Agh!_" Zim grit his teeth. "_When I'm the Tallest, you two'll be sorry!_"

"_Wen I'm da Dallest, doo doo'll de sowwy,_" Red mocked, making crying motions on his eyes, and the laughter increased as Zim struggled helplessly.

"_Hey!_ Leave Zim alone!"

Everybody turned. One little Irken female had stepped out of the crowd, red eyes narrow, claws on her hips, staring up at the two taller Irkens and their tiny captive.

Purple scoffed, which shook Zim slightly. "Why?"

"Yeah," Red said, crossing his arms. "_Who's gonna make us?_"

"_I am!_" Tenn snapped, and the two drew back slightly; the short, usually sweet little smeet had an oddly dangerous tone in her voice. "I _said,_ let Zim go _now._"

The two friends looked at each other, considering. Then Purple made a face and dropped Zim to the ground, where he landed, face-first, with a loud and unpleasant _CRACK_.

"_Pffft. _Whatever. That was getting boring anyway."

"Yeah. Let's get out of here," Red muttered, walking away.

The rest of the crowd dispersed, and Tenn, turning up her noseless face, turned to storm angrily away. After a moment Zim was left lying on the ground alone, the scene from moments ago playing in his mind.

_Leave Zim alone! Let Zim go now!_

_She knows my name, _Zim thought, wild euphoria spreading through his broken and bruised form. He lay there in ecstacy for a moment, absorbing the thought.

Hee-hee.

"I AM ZIM!" he screamed to the floor, pumping one fist triumphantly into the air. A moment later it fell back to the ground as he passed out in a mixture of joy and pain.


	9. GtAMR

Agh! I have made a grievous error in judgement. In the last chapter's Author's Notes, I was _supposed _to link you all to the magnificent glory that the Illustrious Crackpot drew, based on the Skoodge/Gaz chapter of this story. Just insert the dots to this link:

illustrious-crackpot**(dot)**deviantart**(dot)**com/art/Skoodge-n-Gaz-109674432

Thanks again, I.C.! It really is cool. :-) Incidentally, Weird Pairing Lovers, if you haven't already, feel free to take a look at my recent story "The Way It Has to Be." Anyway, enough chatter. Let's get to the story!

* * *

When Gretchen was younger, her favorite show in the world was _Probing the Membrane of Science._

The little five-year-old girl would sit in front of the TV set every day, absorbed in the scientist as he pontificated about this or that obscure theory or new and amazing invention. There was no point in trying to distract her from it, and if someone dared change the channel during her program it was sure to start her crying, to her older sister's annoyance. Then she would spend the rest of the day until bedtime telling everyone about what she had learned, until this same older sister wanted to tear her hair out in frustration.

Gretchen _loved _Professor Membrane. He was so smart, so cool, so endlessly fascinating. Not to mention handsome...

She would beg her parents to take her to see the show live, but unfortunately something always got in the way. Still, it was Gretchen's fondest wish that soon they would be able to take her down there, so she could see him from up close and maybe even get picked from the audience to ask him a question. Her heart would just burst at the very thought of getting to speak to him.

So imagine her surprise when she just happened to see him on her first day of skool.

She was already really nervous about kindergarten, and when she was nervous, she got thirsty. Her parents had dropped her off early, when only about half the kids were already in class, so she raised her hand and asked the teacher if she could run to get a drink of water real quick. The teacher told her to hurry, and she ran down the corridor with her hall pass to the nearest fountain. She had just hopped down from the little step ladder they put for the younger kids and was heading back to class when she suddenly saw him from behind.

The famous Professor Membrane, walking down the hallway holding a little girl's hand.

Gretchen's breath caught in her throat for a moment, and she stared in astonishment, wondering if it could really be him. But there was no mistaking that long, peculiar lock of hair. Soft-looking, silky ebony hair that seemed to shine in the fluorescent lighting...

She shook her head. It took a moment for her mind to work again. It was Professor Membrane! Her idol! Just walking down the elementary skool hallway! She had to go and speak to him!

She took off at a run, flying right past her classroom after him as he headed for the parking lot.

"Professor Membrane! Professor Membrane!"

He didn't seem to hear her; he reached the front doors of the skool and opened them, walking with the little girl out of the building.

"No---Professor!"

She ran out the door after him, by which time he had already reached his car. She held out a hand and was about to call again, when suddenly she tripped over her untied shoe laces and fell onto her face. She let out a small cry of pain as she felt her large front teeth slam into her tongue. The professor, meanwhile, had picked up the little girl, strapped her into a car seat with a jolly "Here you go, daughter" and was now climbing into the front seat.

"No---Professor Membrane!"

It was no use. The car door closed, and then the vehicle pulled out, turned, and drove away.

Gretchen's arm went limp at her side, and her face fell. She felt warm tears build up in her eyes as she slowly climbed to her feet, rubbing the bruises on her elbows in pain. Slowly, sadly, she turned around and trudged back to class.

When she got there, it was just about time to start. The class was arranged at little tables, each set for four people; nearly all of them were filled. Still feeling miserable, Gretchen looked up from the floor just long enough to spot the last available seats, at a table only occupied by one other child. She trudged over and sat down across from him, still looking downcast.

The teacher started the class by standing by the blackboard and writing some words ("WELCOME TO SKOOL"), instructing everyone to take out a sheet of paper and copy them as best they could. As Gretchen began to copy, the boy sitting across from her paused, frowned at her, wondering why she seemed so sad. He tapped her on the arm; she looked up, startled. He gave a small wave. "Hi."

"Hi," she said morosely.

"You look sad. Are you sad?"

She sniffled. "A little."

"Oh. Well, don't be sad. My dad told me that skool is gonna be really fun."

He gave her an encouraging smile, then suddenly frowned, turning his head and giving her a funny look. "Say, you're not an _alien,_ are you?"

She blinked in surprise. "...No."

"Oh. Okay then." Then he returned to his paper, writing the words easily without having to look up at the board.

Gretchen looked back down at her own word, copying clumsily, but glanced back up briefly at the boy. He had funny, messy black hair, with a weird tuft that stood up and swept back over his head. She thought his hair looked nice, all soft and silky.

Hmm. He looked strangely familiar...and also kinda cute...

------------------------------------

"Hey, what's your last name, Dib?" Gretchen asked years later, copying down the name of each of her group members onto a piece of paper. Their other two teammates, Zita and the Letter M, both seemed intent on not talking to Dib if they could possibly avoid it.

"Membrane," he said dully. Which wasn't strictly true, but it was the standard answer he had learned to give for simplicity's sake.

Gretchen began writing, then paused. "Like the scientist?"

"Yeah. He's my dad."

"Hmm." She tapping the eraser of her pencil against her large front teeth thoughtfully. "I think I used to watch that show..." She considered for a moment, trying to remember, then shrugged and went back to writing.

* * *

I'm rather fond of this chapter. :-) Invaderzimfannumber1 has pointed out to me that Gretchen's crush on Dib seems to develop sometime after "Room With a Moose," since she makes fun of him in that episode, but eh...crushes come and go.


	10. BABR

Finally updated! Sorry for the long wait. Anyway, my Internet was out for a few days so I took the chance to write a lot. Anyway, I have decided to expand this story! I just had too many ideas and not enough chapters, so I will be adding more chapters to this thing, though I make no promise of frequent updates. Hence the title change. Hope you guys are happy about that! And if not...then why are reading this anyway? Screw you!

And in case anyone's wondering, I don't know why I named the secretary Devi; I've never even read Vasquez's comics, but I was reading _about_ them online and just decided to throw that in there. If she's massively out of character, just imagine she's a different "Devi," I guess. And...yeah. Onto the story!

* * *

Devi was sitting at her desk, reading a magazine, when the phone rang beside her.

She sighed, popped a gum-bubble and answered it.

"Mulder Paranormal Investigating Service, this is Devi speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hello?!" The voice on the other end of the phone was so loud Devi had to pull it away. "Hello?! I need someone to come over to the Elamentry Skool! There is something _really_ weird here that you guys _have_ to investigate!"

"And what might this be, sir?"

"A teacher."

"What sort of teacher?" Devi's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Is she sucking people's brains out? Because if it's a publik skool, you know they're _supposed _to do that..."

"What?! No! This teacher is some sort of a---a---I don't know what! Just send somebody down here, _quick! _I---"

"Hey, wait a minute. You sound familiar." Devi sat up, eyebrow quirked. "Aren't you that kid who called us last month about that swamp monster living in your neighbor's pool?"

"_Yes._ But that's not important! I just need you to send somebody down here _now!_"

Devi sighed. "Fine, sir. I'll send somebody to investigate as soon as I can."

"_Thank _you."

Devi hung up, then leaned forward, putting her hands together and resting her chin on her fingers. What a waste of time. Investigating a skoolteacher of all things. Ugh. Devi didn't believe in any of this paranormal nonsense to begin with, but this, no doubt, was going to be a particularly stupid job, even stupider than most of the stupid jobs this stupid business stupidly did. Stupid.

Of course, she thought with a tiny grin, might as well get the agency's stupidest worker on the case, then.

-------------------------------------

"Excuse me, Ms.…_Bitters?_" he inquired, pulling his sunglasses down slightly to stare at the woman before him.

She looked up, eyes narrowing. "_Yes?_"

"My name is Mr.…_Bill._ I'm a class inspector. The Skool Bored sent me to…_inspect_ your _class._"

"Eh?" She seemed to have fallen partially asleep during his brief introduction. She waved her hand. "Oh, whatever. Just sit in the back---and stay quiet!"

"Yes, ma'am."

He was in. He moved to the back of the classroom as the kids filed in, taking their seats. One boy with jet black hair swept back in a scythe turned to stare at the man out of the corner of his bespeckled eyes. Wanting to keep his cover, Bill pulled the hat down further over his face and watched as the teacher began her lesson of the day.

It didn't take long for Bill to decide that the call his agency had received had definitely been a false alarm; there was nothing at all paranormal about this woman as far as he could see, and her lesson about the imminent fall of Western civilization seemed very well-informed, save for the fact that no mention was made of the vital contribution that the Leprechaun Council was playing in world events. (But of course, as a civilian, she could hardly be expected to know about _that._) Bill was not surprised; he had suspected this assignment would prove a waste of his precious time, that this supposed-demon teacher would turn out to be nothing more than an innocent old woman. His agency received prank calls like that all the time: reports of baby bigfoots, ninja ghosts, mysterious rubber piggies that would appear out of nowhere to cause imminent doom…

So he expected her to be a normal woman. What he hadn't expected was how enchanting she would turn out to be.

She was so graceful, the way she moved around the room, so light on her feet that she almost seemed to be gliding on air. She was so witty, the way she responded to the children's questions with jokes about unspeakable doom. She was so smart, the way she could lecture about horrible ham demons and swirling portals of moose-smelly doom, things that few people outside of his business had ever heard of and only a few of his colleagues took seriously at all.

The bell rang; the children scrambled out of the door and windows, eager to leave, except for that one, who scrambled to the back of the room, glancing at Bill carefully.

"Excuse me, sir, but are you the paranormal investigator the agency said they would send over? See, I'm the one who called, and I just wanted to know if you have any information---?"

"Huh?" Bill looked up, startled; he had been entranced in watching Ms. Bitters as she banged the erasers together, causing little clouds of chalk dust to form moaning faces that flew up into the air. "Oh, um…not yet, son. I may need to come back for another…investigation…"

The boy blinked. "Huh? But---"

Bill didn't stop to listen; he walked past the stuttering boy out of the room, casting another glance back for the enchanting woman behind the desk.

-------------------------------------

"Mr. Bill" was back the next day, and the next. In fact he came back every day that week. He knew it was a waste of time, but he just couldn't help it; he was too enchanted with this wonderful creature, utterly captivated by everything she did. The curve of her hooked nose, the way the light played on her bun of white hair…the way she slammed her hands down on her desk to get attention, or moved one up to wipe off a cockroach crawling across her face…

He sighed. She was an angel. Not the real kind, of course, the fire-breathing, flesh-eating sort that hatched from squirrel eggs, but that ridiculously happy kind you saw on Christmas cards. He was in love.

The dark-haired boy who called him, though, was getting increasingly annoyed with this situation. Finally, on Friday, he stormed up to him at the end of the class, angry.

"What's going on?! Is there something wrong with you?! It's obvious Ms. Bitters is some sort of---something, but you just keep sitting there at the back of class watching her every day! Why don't you capture her or something?! Bring her back to your lab for experimentation? Or for that matter, why not---hey!"

"Move over, kid," Bill said, annoyed; he didn't have time for paranoid idiots right now, he had a job to do! He went to the front of the room, where Ms. Bitters was sitting, sleeping with a horror novel open in her lap (she hadn't even bothered teaching the second half of the day) and cleared his throat. "Ms. Bitters?"

"Wha?" She snapped awake, blinking up at him through her glasses. "Oh. You're still here?"

"Yes. I just wanted you to know that the class investigation is over. I'm going to report that you're a perfectly able and worthy teacher."

"Eh." She shrugged.

"Also, I was wondering…" He coughed, face darkening slightly under his hat "if you would be interested in accompanying me out tonight?"

Ms. Bitters blinked. "Out where?"

"Out…_there,_" he said mysteriously, waving his hand at the window.

Ms. Bitters turned to follow his gaze, her expression blank. "I've never done that before…"

"So you'll join me for dinner tonight?"

She looked upon at him, no expression on her face. "Whatever."

Bill's heart exploded in his chest. "Excellent! I'll pick you up at seven."

He turned and practically skipped out of the room. The boy with the dark hair stared after him, mouth open, before giving a small shudder and rushing on home.

* * *

Weirdest. Couple. _Ever._

Please review!


	11. BlAMyR

Just in case you thought the last chapter was as weird as I can get...

* * *

_So hungry..._

So hungry, all the time. The very air around me crackling with food, but so very little that I could actually absorb. The air around me is cold as I suck what heat from it I can; the walls around me surge with it, electrical and nuclear and plasmic and antimatteric. It tempts me, tantalizes me, but all of it is just out of reach.

And then...then there are the people. The people, crackling with their own energies, and though not nearly as much, they fascinate me. The ones like my Maker, with the attached machines that just _buzz_ with raw, delicious power. And the other ones, with their own normal heat energy, a light but tempting meal. And...in all of them, all of them, that _special_ energy. The one hidden down, beneath the heat and electricity and everything else, that sings to me. Oh, how I want that energy. I want it so bad, but I can never get _that._

Oh...the Maker does not understand. When I try to get out of his control, he yells at me. It makes me sad, how he yells at me. I'm just so hungry, so hungry all the time. And not just for food, either. There is more than that, I sense it, in that special energy. If I could have that, I would be satisfied, not just of my normal hunger, but my deeper hunger as well.

And now...now I am being shown to the others. My Maker is talking about me, proud to show me off, to the other engineers, the scientists, to...

_Her._

Oh, I want to dance my gooey dance when I feel her energy; her special energy is just singing out at me, calling me, tempting me, even as she herself stands there and talks with the others as if there was nothing odd about her. Oh! Please, my Maker, can I have that? Can I have that one, just that one person, just that one so-sweet ball of magic that I can feel pulsing inside that tall person's PAK and heart? And oh! Oh oh! They're bringing out the _Feasty Thing!_ That magical box that makes all the food for me! Oh! Damn this collar! If only I could get it off, if only I could stretch out enough to grab that Feasty Box and---

Oh.

Oh.

OH!

**_YUM!_**

The collar! It's gone! I can move again, I can---and ah! The food! I'm---I'm---_full!_ For the first time ever---so much energy inside me, so much power---I don't need to eat anymore, don't need to suck energy from the walls or from the air, I have it all, endless food inside me. I'm free! I'm no longer hungry!

But then I see _her,_ among the screaming others, standing stunned with her mouth hanging open.

And I feel the pulsing glow of that secret energy hidden inside her.

And I realize I _am_ still hungry.

And so I lunge and consume her and that magic, glowing ball of loveliness with her before I escape.

But ah...

_...ah..._

...something I didn't realize...

...that energy...it doesn't _go away_ when you eat it, no, no. That energy, this_...soul..._it's not like other energy, see? It's different, special, _magic,_ and...it doesn't dissolve, doesn't become part of me like the rest of it, no no, not in the same way, anyway, it's inside me---inside me even as she, her vessel and body fades to form my oozy self...but the energy remains, a beautiful ball of light, invisible to others but _burning _within me with a warmth that makes up for the cold blackness of space!

Oh! Who knew!

And it can _speak!_

And scream.

"Agh! Where---where am I?! What has happened?! I can't---I can't feel my body, I---who---who's there? What's happening?!"

"Oh...you are inside me now, my sweet singing ball of magical wonder. You get to be with me now. You are..._part of me._"

"What? Part of---no! No, release me! _No!_"

And I smile inwardly as I fly off through space with her, listening to the musical screaming inside me and wanting to weep for joy.

I'm not hungry anymore.

* * *

Just in case you didn't get it:

**BlAMyR---Blob and Miyuki Romance.**

Yeah, I'm messed up.


	12. SATR

"Let me guess. Zim kick you out again?"

The small "boy" on her doorstep shifted uncomfortably. "No. I mean---not exactly. He's just…kinda mad."

The "girl" rolled her eyes, leaning against the door frame of her palatial abode, examining him with her arms crossed over her chest. His red wig, the only covering he had from the burning rain that fell from this planet's skies, was hanging down over his burnt face in sopping tangles---he hadn't even had time to grab his holographic projector, she noted, but had had to risk running down the street with green skin and red eyes visible. Zim must have been truly furious with him. She smirked a little at the thought; Skoodge had probably destroyed whatever his newest stupid invention was. That would save _her _the trouble, at least.

"So let me guess," Tak said, her voice still mocking. "You want me to let you stay _here_ until he calms down a bit?"

"Um…w-well…yes?"

"Hmm." Tak held her claw out from her, disinterestedly examining her illusionary fingernails. "But now, Skoodge, _why _should I do that? Considering you refuse to betray any of Zim's secrets to me, and are getting increasingly better at not letting them slip out by mistake, what would be the tactical advantage of me allowing _you,_ a known ally to my greatest foe, come into my base to rest and eat rather than leaving you out here to burn to death in the rain?"

Skoodge's face fell. His stuttered for a moment, trying to come up with an answer; then he simply looked up at her, smiling hopefully.

"_Please?_"

Tak stared for a moment. Then she sighed, opening the door wider. "_Fine._"

Skoodge's smile brightened; he jumped up, wrapping her legs and abdomen in a hug. "Thank you, Tak!"

"......Don't touch me."

"Er, right, sorry."

* * *

Short but sweet, I hope. Please review!


	13. GtAER

_"Cinderella,  
dressed in yella,  
went upstairs to---"_

"_Oof!_"

Gretchen fell, feet tangled in the jump rope, face in the dirt. The other girls laughed.

"You okay, girl?" Aki asked between chortles.

Gretchen stood up, brushing off her dress. "I'm fine!" she said quickly, feeling her cheeks begin to burn. "No problem."

The girls started jumping again. Gretchen, feeling lucky just to be included for once, jumped along with them, praying she wouldn't fall.

_"Cinderella,  
dressed in yella,  
went up---"_

"_Oof!_"

Down into the dirt again. The other girls snickered, Zita loudest of all.

"Gretchen!" Sara said, annoyed. "That's the fourth time you trip! You're messing everyone up!"

"Oh, she can't help it, girls," Zita said, chuckling as she pointed. "Her ugly shoes keep getting caught on the rope!"

The girls laughed. Gretchen frowned, looking down at her feet. "What's wrong with my shoes...?"

"I'm surprised it didn't get caught on her big teeth," Aki snickered.

Gretchen's hand immediately flew up to cover her mouth. "And that hair!" Zita pointed, the original cause of their teasing forgotten. "I mean, who does those pigtails for you?"

"Seriously---those have to be the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"

Gretchen got up, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She turned and ran away, crying, as the other girls laughed behind her before finally remembering what they were doing and returning to their game.

Gretchen, meanwhile, retreated to the stoop of the skool and sat there, sniffling to herself and wiping her tears in her handkerchief. She cursed herself silently for even going to play with the other girls in the first place. They had just been baiting her; it _always_ ended in teasing. Why hadn't she learned that by now?

"Gretchen? Are you alright?"

She looked up, startled. Mr. Elliot, her teacher from the year before, had just come out of the skool building. She quickly sniffled again and tried to hide her handkerchief. "Oh---y-yes, sir. I'm fine."

Mr. Elliot cocked his head to one side. "Now, is that true?" he asked, giving her a look; it was the same playful tone one would use when asking an obvious question to a small child, but it sounded worried, not playful. "Little girls who are fine don't usually sit on the skoolyard steps during recess crying. Is everything alright?"

"Well---w-well, I..."

Mr. Elliot stepped forward and sat down next to her on the step; Gretchen scooted over to make room for him. She sighed. "It's nothing, really," she said, shaking her head and staring at her ugly-clad feet. "Some of the other girls were just making fun of me, that's all."

"Now why would they do that?" It was that same cadence, but he sounded serious at the same time, and even honestly confused.

She shrugged, kicking a pebble at her feet. "They just---they made fun of my shoes...and my teeth..." She sniffled again, bringing her handkerchief up to wipe her nose. "And they said I was ugly."

Mr. Elliot frowned. "Well, now, that doesn't sound very nice."

"No." Gretchen kicked a rock again and sighed. "But they're right. I _am_ ugly."

"Well, now, don't you go talking like that," Mr. Elliot scolded, wagging his finger at her. "That's not true at all, Gretchen. You're a very pretty girl."

Gretchen blinked. "Really?"

"Of course. I don't know what those other children were talking about. Your hair is very nice, and I don't think there's anything wrong with your shoes at all."

"But what about my teeth?"

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with them, either," Mr. Elliot said, waving his hand. "You know, when I was a child kids used to tease me about my glasses."

"Really?"

"Yes." He took his spectacles off, examining them for a moment before wiping them on his sweater-vest. "Well, they were a lot bigger and thicker back then. But you'll find that things like that don't matter after a while. After all, your braces will take care of whatever little dental problems you have after a while, and then your teeth won't even be a problem." He put his glasses back on, his kind blue eyes focusing back on Gretchen's face. "And besides, you still have a _very_ pretty smile, you know."

"Really?"

"Yes, when you can see it."

Gretchen grinned sheepishly. Mr. Elliot winked. "See?"

The skool bell rang. Mr. Elliot stood up; Gretchen did too. "Ah, well, time to get back to class. Are you going to be alright, Gretchen?"

She nodded. "Good." He smiled at her one more time, adjusted his glasses slightly, then turned and went onto the playground to gather up his students, glad he could make one of his children (as he considered any child in the skool) happy for a moment.

What he failed to notice, however, were the twin spots of pink that appeared on Gretchen's cheeks as her eyes followed after him across the skoolyard, still smiling shyly.

* * *

Hmm...why do I keep putting Gretchen with adult characters? Then again, there are only so many interesting ones her own age, and she's already canonically crushing on Dib...speaking of which, I'm gonna try to use him for the next one, since I've barely used him at all. But again, DATR is popular and Dib/Gaz is creepy, so there are only so many options. This show needs more female characters.

Please review!


	14. DAZR

She hated Dib so much right now.

She had never liked him; ever since they were kids she had known he was a weirdo, a freak, and if there was one positive thing to say about his presence in her life it was that it gave her an infinite opportunity to mock him. And mock him she did. After all, Zita was the cool girl, the smart one, the kid with the sharpest wit and the ego to match. Dib was the nutcase who spent all his free time ranting about aliens while everyone else was worrying about important things, like clothes and movies and stuff.

Zita never passed up an opportunity to make fun of him. Not only was it funny, but it was a great tactic: Dib didn't have any friends, nobody liked him, so calling him crazy would make everybody laugh and just boost her own popularity more and more. It was so easy, and she _loved_ doing it. She would just smirk when he glared at her after her barbs, basking in his anger as much as in everybody else's happy approval.

But then Dib had to go and ruin it. Things changed overnight after that stupid invasion; as soon as it got out that it had been Dib to defeat the aliens' mothership---and that it was _Zim_ who had called them, that Dib had been right all those years since elamentry skool, about him, about _everything_---his popularity standing changed overnight! Now he was on every TV channel, the cover of every magazine and newspaper, and in the skoolyard he was instantly the undisputed King of Cool. Now that he was Earth's savior, people hung on his every word about aliens, Bigfoot, pirate ghosts in the town lake or whatever insanity he was spouting off that day. And it didn't help that he was almost six feet tall now, that his stupid hair scythe was so long and cool and---Zita would admit it to herself, only reluctantly---that he looked much less like a geek now and looked---almost---_handsome._

Of course, Zita was not stupid. She was smart, so it didn't take her long to realize that the tide had changed and Dib was now her social equal, so what did she do? The only logical thing she could think of: try to recruit him as an ally. After all, she had always used him to boost her own image before; she had no major qualms doing the same thing now, in the reverse.

But Dib didn't want to be her ally.

Dib didn't want to help her boost her own popularity.

To Zita's shock---her total, complete, absolute _shock_---Dib _blew her off._

Dib Membrane, the richest, smartest, and now for the first time absolutely _coolest_ kid in skool did something no popular kid had ever done in the history of all time: _ignore his own popularity._

Zita felt like she had been slapped in the face. Dib wouldn't eat lunch with the cool kids---he went back to sitting by himself like he always did, sometimes accompanied by his sister, and sometimes---to Zita's utter horror---even with the other _geeky_ kids, like Keef or Melvin or even _Gretchen._ And imagine her shock when he turned down _her _invitation to the Sadie Hawkins' dance, and took _that geek _instead, laughing and smiling at her even as she stepped on his toes during every slow dance. Zita, believe it or not, wound up _dateless_---she had turned down The Letter M to get Dib, and by the time Dib turned her down he was going with Jessica instead.

It annoyed her. It bothered her. It freakin' pissed her off! All of a sudden Dib was the most popular boy in skool, and he didn't even _care?!_ He wasn't even going to _do it right?!_ And he was going to turn _her _down for a dance to take a _freak_ like Gretchen instead?! Who did he think he was?!

Zita hated Dib so much right now.

No matter how popular _or_ handsome that stupid freak was.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **In case there's any confusion:

ZADR = Zim and Dib romance_._

DAZR = Dib and Zita romance.

Hope you enjoyed...please review!


	15. GAER

It was disgusting, the way they were all drooling over him.

Gaz could only grimace, glaring harder into her Game Slave 3 to ignore their annoying little sighs. At the front of the class, Mr. Elliot continued giving the morning announcements, apparently oblivious to the attention he was receiving. His very presence annoyed her. She had had to deal with him and his touchy-feely crap enough in Elamentry Skool, did he really have to follow her _here _too? And as her _homeroom_ teacher, no less...she had to put up with him even _more _than any of her _other _idiot teachers.

And now this whole "crush" thing.

It had come to Gaz's attention, soon after the skool year began, that Mr. Elliot was quite a popular teacher with some of her classmates. In fact, it seemed as if half of the female population had declared themselves the future Mrs. Elliot, and now anytime he called on a girl there would be giggling and whispers, all of which he, of course, was clueless about. His tendency to be so sickeningly nice and smile his peppy smiles at everyone did little to calm the storm, though they were never, Gaz was sure, meant to be anything _close_ to flirtatious; he gave those same smiles to the boys, the other teachers, everyone, but _no,_ every girl was _sure_ it was different when they did it to _them._ Idiots.

Next to her, the trio of vapid, giggly girls continued to chatter to themselves and sigh about Mr. Elliot, his blond hair, his blue eyes...Gaz's hands tightened on her Game Slave. Oh, shut _up_ already, she wanted to scream. It was sickening, it made her want to barf, the way they gushed like little love-struck morons. But on and on they went---oh, look at his hair, his dimples, his eyes, his smile---he's so _cute,_ they all gushed.

Gaz wanted to scream, "Cute? CUTE?! He's a scrawny little worm who's more than twice your age, you idiots! He's an annoying little nerd in a freakin' sweater vest! He's nothing more than the adult version of the kids you mock and make fun of! You'd run away screaming if a _kid _like him asked you out on a date, so quit being so _stupid_ and go date _Keef_ if you like _this_ guy so much!"

But Gaz simply growled. The girls shut up instantly, eyes wide as they creeped away; Gaz's eyes shifted back to her Game Slave, still scowling.

"Gaz?"

If he startled her she didn't show it; she just looked up to see Mr. Elliot standing over her, frowning as he leaned forward. "Are you alright? I just noticed that all through the announcements you seemed upset about something."

Gaz scoffed. Typical Mr. Elliot. He wouldn't notice half the girls in the class practically going into conniptions over him---after all, they were _happy,_ and happiness was _normal_ in his mind, requiring no further investigation. But be annoyed by something, _then_ there was a problem.

"No. I'm fine."

"Alright then. Just remember, if something _is_ bothering you, you can come and talk to me anytime you like, alright?"

He smiled his ridiculous smile---overly happy and sympathetic at the same time, not to mention horribly, _sickeningly_ sincere---before returning to his desk.

The stupid girls beside Gaz sighed, in awe that Mr. Elliot had been so close to them. Then they went back to giggling about how cute he was.

Gaz rolled her eyes and returned to her game. Stupid little morons. Liking him just because he was _cute._

Really, didn't personality count for _anything _these days?

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Gaz is another character that's hard to pair off...but I have a _few_ other ideas.

Anyway, please review!


	16. KAGtR

It makes me sad that you don't notice her.

I know you don't do it on purpose. I know you're not being mean, even though sometimes it almost _seems_ mean, the way she pays so much attention to you and you never even seem to notice. I don't know why Gretchen just doesn't come right out and tell you she likes you; that's what I'd do. I guess she's nervous or scared or something. So she usually talks to me about it instead.

You make her really sad sometimes, you know. But I guess you _don't _know that, because you would never do that on purpose, would you, Dib? But I do kind of wish you'd notice her more, like when she gave you all those Valentine's meats, or when she smiles at you, or when she tries to say something nice but you're too busy running after Zim to respond with more than a couple of words. It really hurts her feelings.

"Oh..." she says, as you run down the hall away from us, ignoring her again.

I frown. "Ah...don't worry, buddy," I say, putting a hand on her shoulder and forcing my sad face into a grin. "It'll go better next time!"

Gretchen looked over at me with her sad eyes, and she smiles a little too. "You think so?"

"Of course!" I say, nodding.

And Gretchen sighs, leaning her head against mine and pulling me into a half-hug. "Thanks, Keef."

I really like you both. You're two of my bestest friends, so I really do hope that one day, you'll notice her, Dib. I hope you see how much she likes you, and I hope you like her back, so that you two can be together and date and have lots of fun, and that you'll be really happy together so that Gretchen won't have to be sad anymore or anything.

But don't worry. _I _like her, so until then, I'll keep her happy for you.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Super-short, and as I reread it I couldn't shake the feeling that it didn't sound quite...Keefy. A bit too rational, maybe, spoken quietly instead of shouted with glee. But anyway, this was already written, and my hit count for the day is ridiculously low, so, there ya go. Hope this holds my "fans" over until "A Weekend at EARL's" updates. Please review!


	17. MAVR

**Author's Notes: **Hey! Sorry it's been so long, but I'm finally trying to ease my way back into the fandom after a semi-long sort-of absence, so here's a new weird couple for you to enjoy! :-D

* * *

Dib was having a _really_ hard day.

It wasn't a _bad _day, exactly, at least not by Dib's rather lower-than-average standards; granted, the whole "lice" incident had been annoying and near-fatal, but it had gotten him out of class at least, even if Ms. Bitters made it a point to hunt down all her students and demand a double homework assignment to make up for it. Plus he'd gotten to watch Zim be ground up in a giant blaster-cannon, and the even-more fascinating process of watching him regrow his legs afterwards.

Still, the day had been long and exhausting. He was still annoyed about his project's failure, and a bit sheepish for being wrong about Countess von Verminstrasser's theories. He had at least hoped afterwards that she might be interested in hearing some of _his _ideas, but unfortunately, she wasn't. Even as he vigorously pointed out the obviously-odd reaction Zimhad on the lice (with Gretchen flashing him a smile as she ran off, eager to finally escape the odd woman), Countess von Verminstrasser seemed entirely uninterested in any theories of extraterrestrial life. Further attempts proved equally futile, even as he tried to stay on lice-related topics like vampires, chupacabras and demon bugs.

"Young man, I do not have time for such nonsense!" the Countess finally snapped as Dib tried to bring up the subject of haunted hairdos. "This is a serious matter, and I do not have time for your games. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Dib scowled as she moved away to talk to one of her subordinates; a truck had just pulled up to the skool, apparently to transport what was left of the Lice Queen's body. Rolling his eyes, Dib joined the throngs of other students in scanning the street; the day was finally over, the buses were loading, and cars of parents were pulling up to pick up their bald, exhausted kids. "I wish Gaz would hurry up so we can get home already," Dib muttered, impatiently tapping his foot. He was exhausted, frustrated, itchy and filthy with alien goo---all he wanted to do at the moment was get home, chip off as much of Zim's skin as he could for later study and then take a long, hot shower before dinner. Which reminded him, tonight was the bi-monthly family meal...good thing Zim was incapacitated, there would be nothing to distract him from having a nice dinner with---

Dib blinked suddenly. "_Dad?!_"

Professor Membrane, halfway up the skool steps, turned. "Oh. Hello there, son!" he said, as if somehow surprised that his child was there.

Dib ran over to him. "I didn't know you were picking us up first! Gaz'll be here in a second, she's just in the bathroom---we aren't going straight to the restaurant, are we? I think we'll need to get cleaned up first," he explained, holding out his arms so Professor Membrane could see his filthy, disheveled clothes.

"Oh, no, no, son," Professor Membrane said, shaking his head. "I can't take you children home right now, I'm here on official business!"

Dib blinked. "Business?"

"Why of course! Somebody contacted my lab about an important scientific discovery here today. I'm supposed to meet with a Countess von Something..."

"Countess von _Verminstrasser,_ professional Delouser," the Countess said, suddenly appearing out of the crowd and roughly forcing her way between Dib and his father. She held out her hand. "And you must be the esteemed Professor Membrane!"

"Yes, very esteemed!" the Professor said brightly, shaking her hand. "Now, what's this great discov---oh my!"

The Countess' fellow Lice-Nazis had finally managed to drag the broken, slimy body of the Lice Queen out on a stretcher---or the head and neck of it anyway, stopping as she and Professor Membrane approached with Dib following on their heels. "The Lice Queen," von Verminstrasser said, waving her arm over it. "The first specimen ever discovered! Final proof of the validity of my theories! In your face," she added out of the corner of her mouth, turning to glare at a scowling Dib.

"Fascinating!" Membrane said, running his hand over the beast's side. "And how did you find this?!"

"Well Dad, Melvin---that's a kid in my class---came into skool today with lice, and then---"

Countess von Verminstrasser reached behind her and pushed Dib away, knocking him onto his backside; Professor Membrane, of course, was too fascinated by the louse to notice. "It was quite a bit of work," the Delouser admitted. "I have spent months tracking this infestation through the city."

"It must have been as fascinating study! You know, my labs have been doing experiments with radioactive _fleas _of late...is there any chance _we_ could have this cadaver?"

"I'm afraid my supervisors would not allow that," the Countess said, "but we could allow you to take some blood and tissue samples, as well as some of the substance we used to destroy it..."

"It's from the alien, Dad! The stuff they used, it's alien skin-goo---"

"Yes, yes, very nice, son," Membrane said absentmindedly, waving him away.

"Well if you would like to be a part of this research, I'm sure my employers would be only too happy to work with a scientist of your caliber," von Verminstrasser added. She suddenly smiled, not the manic kind of grin she'd worn for the last few hours but a softer, almost shy little smirk. "Perhaps we could meet later to discuss such a partnership?"

"Hmm..." The Professor rubbed his chin through his collar. "Well, I _may _have time tonight..."

"But Dad, tonight's Family Night!" Dib objected. "You were going to take us out for pizza!"

"Ah yes, son, I had forgotten! Hmm..."

Dib smirked, triumphantly sticking his tongue out at the scowling Delouser.

"Well, would you care to _join us, _Countess von Verminstrasser?"

"_What?!_" Dib cried, jumping half a foot.

"Why yes, that would be _lovely,_" the Countess said, tucking a stray hair underneath her showering cap. "And please," she suddenly _giggled,_ a bizarrely girlish sound, "call me _Olga._"

Hidden behind his collar, Membrane gave a slight smile as Dib slapped his forehead and groaned in annoyance.

* * *

**A/N:** Why do the adult pairings keep screwing Dib over? Though I kind of like this one...when you think about it, who _else_ is there to possibly pair Membrane up with? 0_o

Not sure when I'll have the next pairing up, or what it'll be..the next story I update should be "House Party of Doom," for those reading that. Until then, hope you enjoyed this and please review! :-)


	18. ZAMyR

**Author's Notes:** Not much to say, "Nobody Asked" isn't done yet so you all get a rather late update of this. It's Zim/Miyuki! I know there are a few fans of that one around...though here it wound up sounding more like Zim/Zim. Hmm...well, at least it's in-character, then. Enjoy!

* * *

Zim couldn't believe it, but he had actually found somebody as amazing as he was.

This was no small feat, mind you, for Zim was _very_ amazing, _SO_amazing that he hadn't even realized another Irken _could_ match his level of greatness. It was especially surprising because she was a _female,_ and females tended to be less amazing than males on average. You could tell, because if females had been _more_amazing then he, the amazing ZIM!, would have been a female. But Zim was male. _Oh_ so _gloriously_ male! And so amazing he was, too, amazing enough to actually merit the attention of a female as AMAZING as her!

Of course, the fact that she was a Tallest no doubt contributed to her revolutionary greatness---and female Tallests were rare, too, which only made her even _more _fascinating as far as Zim was concerned. And it worked out well, he thought, given how tall he was. Or was going to be, someday. Yes, it would be perfect, he thought, once his growth spurt finally kicked in and he reached his full height---obviously Tallest Miyuki wouldn't mind being disposed as Tallest once she realized that he was such a _worthy_ replacement.

Granted, she and Zim had never actually _met _yet; they had never had a chance, since she was always busy with Tallest things on Irk and Zim was working on Vort, busy with, um...well, blowing stuff up, mostly. But that was all on PURPOSE! All for science, yes, even when he had his own third-degree burns to treat as a result, no biggie. Anyway, Zim still _knew _Miyuki, though, he saw her all the time on the news broadcasts, and he could tell how amazing she was from that alone. Why, even the smelly Vorts knew of her greatness, but _they _obviously couldn't understand her in the way only Zim could---_nobody_ else could tell how great she _really _was, because only Zim's brain-meats came close to matching her own in levels of amazingness. And certainly no one else saw quite how wise she really was, her compassion, the way her almond-shaped eyes sparkled and her dainty little antennae curled behind her head...

Well, Zim couldn't meet her, maybe, or talk to her (since her stupid ugly adviser would never put his calls through!), but Zim could listen, and that was something at least. Miyuki was always making speeches on the broadcasts, and Zim would always watch them and keep them recorded in his PAK, knowing deep down that that grand, illustrious monarch was speaking to him _specifically_ as she outlined her glorious plans for the Empire. Mind you, it _was_ sort of depressing that she never wanted to start any new wars or anything...but peace was good, she assured him, and in no way _inherently_ weak, and she proved it by expanded and updating the Irkens' entire military, to discourage any race stupid enough to think anything different. Key to this was the development of new technology for the benefit of their people---aha! She _was _talking to Zim! He gave a huge grin, puffing out his chest. He was important, Miyuki had said so! From that day on he worked tirelessly, researching and building, testing and exploding, working harder than ever to develop new and glorious _stuff_ for the Empire's expansion. Gifts for the Tallest, he thought manically, dedicated to her and her wonderful, _squishy_ reign of doom-begetting peace!

And then one day, Zim heard the news---she was coming, she was coming to _their _research facility on Vort, she must have heard about Zim's greatness and decided to come see for herself! Zim could have _exploded_ with amazing pride-guts, but those very guts were soon twisting in sudden, horrible fear---he needed to get ready! He needed something, he needed to have a project ready to _show _her when she arrived to glory in his honor! What to make---but Zim could _do it!_ Indeed he could, being Zim and all, and he had _just _the idea too, _way _better than that new spaceship Nar and Seh'ven were so proud of or the Infinite Energy Producing Thingy which he totally did NOT copy to make up his own brilliant plan! And oh _yes_ was it brilliant, this was a gift _worthy _of the Tallest's beautiful amazing greatness, this would show her, this would let her _see _how amazing Zim really, really WAS! And then she would know there was a male as astouding as her, and love Zim as much as he loved---

"_AGH!_"

She screamed as the Blob absorbed her, and the other scientists ran around in a panic, trying to find weapons as the monster smashed through the nearest wall and began to devastate the city outside. A series of explosions followed as the head scientist ran to get security and the others screamed in terrified fear.

Zim, however, merely grinned, lifting his arms in salute of his victory.

"She _LIKED _it!"

* * *

**A/N:** Originally he was going to frown and give a very understated "Oops" or something, but the script says the scene ends with him looking "victorious somehow." In a way this is funnier.

Thanks for reading, and please feel free to review!


	19. DwATR

**Author's Notes: **Well, "Nobody Asked" _still _isn't done, mostly because I know it has to be perfect and thus have a sort of phobic reaction to trying to write it. But it's been more than a month since I published anything, so here's a new crack pairing. This one also doubles as an entry in Chaos of the Asylum's contest on Deviantart (where she goes by Notgonnadie). Wish me luck. ;-)**  


* * *

**Tak stared across the restaurant, trying to dicipher the meaning of this bizarre, illogical sight.

It was a human. A human on _Foodcourtia, _light-years away from Earth, sitting at a table with some Plookesians and gesticulating wildly with a Vort dog in one hand. It was a male, and though sitting Tak could see that he was tall and lanky, with messy black hair on his head and chin and disheveled clothes that looked as if they had long since been uncleaned. It was laughing now, _loudly,_ gaining glares from neighboring tables even as his companions chortled along.

Tak took another bite of her fries, not shifting her eyes away from the specimen. It was bizarre. What was a human doing here, an entire galaxy off of his homeworld? No one else seemed to notice this oddity, but then few in the Empire would recognize a human, or realize how out of place this alien was sitting in an Irken restaurant with Planet Jackers and Blobs.

The two Plookesians got up, leaving the human alone. He waved slightly as they left, then leaned back in his seat, elbow hanging casually off of his chair as he took another bite of his Vort dog, his eyes scanning the restaurant curiously as a stupid little smile spread across his face.

The human turned towards Tak. She quickly looked down, eyes on her food---not so much to avoid looking rude, mind you (as a rule Tak didn't give a damn about that), but out of a natural sense of danger---she had no idea _what _this Earth-monkey was doing on this planet, but until she did she didn't want it to see her, not when she considered her Earthen enemies this beast could represent---Zim must be behind this, she reasoned, or the Dib, why this human even bore a sort of vague resemblance to him---

Tak was so deep in thought that she didn't notice MiMi tugging on her pants leg, or feel the man's approach as he walked up to her table.

"Hiya!"

Tak jumped and let out a very un-Invader-like squeak. The human was standing over her now, grinning insipidly. MiMi rolled her glowing red eyes as her mistress tried to collect herself, taking a moment before she spoke.

"Um...hello?" And then, somewhat more firmly, "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing. I just saw you staring at me and thought I'd come on over and say hello. My name's Dwicky! Fred Dwicky, actually, but nobody ever calls me that. I'm human!" he added brightly, which in his defense would have been news to just about anyone _else_ he might meet.

"...Yes, I noticed," Tak said slowly, looking him up and down. Ugh. She hated adult humans. They were all so...much taller than she was. "My name is Tak," she added carefully. The neurolizer against her forehead began to warm slightly as she prepared to use it at a moment's need.

"Cool! Mind if I sit here?"

"Well, I---" But it was too late---he had already pulled out the empty seat across from her, forcing MiMi to scuttle away to make room. "Sure, why not?" she said sarcastically, looking off to the side.

An awkward silence followed, or at least it felt awkard to Tak; Dwicky smiled, apparently waiting for her to start the conversation, but when she failed to do so he didn't seem all that put off.

"You're an Irken," he said conversationally.

"How _kind_ of you to notice."

"That's neat! The first alien I ever met was an Irken, you know."

"_Really?_" Her eyes narrowed. "And where was this?" she asked, feigning innocent curiosity.

"Oh, well..."

Mind control, it turned out, wasn't necessary; just like that Dwicky began to talk (chipperly, incessantly), and Tak soon figured out that while Zim _was _behind his presence here in a roundabout sense this Dwicky-human clearly posed no threat to her. He was a therapist of some sort, it seemed, and he had been trying to help Dib under the assumption that he and Zim really _were_ just a pair of human children playing some sort of a game. ("Kids do that, you know, to act out their frustrations---well imagine my surprise when _this_ game turned out to be _real!_") He had wound up flying away from the planet with some Plookesians who were involved in Dib's plan, or something, and since then he had been playing tourist around the universe, using a camera Dib had lent him to take home movies of his trip. He showed it to her, grinning manically---"Just wait 'til I get back to show Dib, too, I can tell he's gonna love 'em.

"But enough about me!" the annoying primate said suddenly, stashing the camera back in his pocket. "Tell me about yourself."

Tak blinked. "Myself?" she said stupidly. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What _about _myself?" Maybe this Dwicky was more cunning than he appeared. (He certainly couldn't be less.)

"Well, what brings you to this planet? Do you work around here?" Here the Dwicky folded his fingers together on the table and leaned forward, looking Tak right in the eyes in a way that felt nerve-wrackingly _wrong _to all of her Irken senses.

"Well, I---_no,_" she stammered, feeling slightly on-the-spot. "I'm sort of..._between _jobs at the moment."

"Oh? What field do you work in?" Dwicky asked, sounding so legitimately interested that Tak's antennae drooped at the thought of answering.

"I am a..._janitorial drone,_" she mumbled, an acute mix of embarrassment and anger evident in her voice.

"Well, that sounds interesting!"

"...No it doesn't. I sweep _dirt._"

He frowned sympathetically. "And you don't like your job?"

"What are you, a brainless Blorch-rat? Of _course_ I don't like it!" Tak snapped, jumping to her feet for a moment to point at the human bitterly. He blinked but didn't respond, and suddenly Tak fell back into her chair, sullen. "That's not what I was supposed to do, anyway."

"Oh?"

"No oh! I was _trained _as an Elite Irken Soldier." She grabbed her soda and began to nervously play with her straw, stabing the button of the cup with it. "Best in my class, too."

"Well, what happened?" he asked, leaning forward in a way that made him seem closer to Tak's height, giving her a sort of frown with his eyes.

She looked up enough to give him a sidewise look. "I don't want to talk about it," she grumbled.

"I think you do."

She looked up sharply, eyes narrowing; if Dwicky noticed her anger he gave no sign, merely sat there, smiling insipidly.

"...Well, it all started fifty years ago..."

Dwicky's silly little smile widened a bit as she began, and after a moment Tak was speaking rapidly, making animated motions with her arms, purple eyes vivid---she was ranting, she knew it, but it felt _good _to rant, and despite this human's connections to her enemies she felt secure as long as she left out the names and details of her tale. And the Dwicky didn't interrupt her, didn't seem put-off even as some of the others around them gave her looks like they had given him---he merely sat there, watching her closely, nodding and "hmm"ing at the right moments, frowning at points but never quite losing that stupid little smile that showed freakishly sincere interest.

"---and now I don't even have my own ship anymore, it probably got sucked into Ear---_that planet's _gravity and got vaporized or something," Tak grumbled, waving her hand. "I had to hitchhike to get here, and I don't know _where_ to go now."

"Aw, that's too bad, Tak," Dwicky said, sounding truly sympathetic. He shook his head. "It's too bad my friend Dib isn't here, he'd probably just lend you _his_ ship!"

Tak's eyelids shot up. "What?!"

"Yeah! Got an Irken ship from Zim or something, that's where he got that Plookesian distress signal, he said---too bad, I'll have to ask to see it when I get back! Anyway," he said, waving the topic away, "don't you worry about it. I'm sure you'll be able to get back on your feet."

Tak scoffed, slumping over the table. "I don't see how," she grumbled, this news about her ship making her even _more_ depressed somehow. "It's another twenty years before I can retake the Elite test, and until then the only job I have official qualification for is cleaning up _trash._"

She was startled as Dwicky leaned forward to pat her gloved hand sympathetically. "I'm sure you'll bounce back. You seem really clever, I'm sure you'll think of something!"

Tak slowly withdrew her hand, casting an odd look at Dwicky's still-smiling face. "Thanks."

His grin brightened a bit. And, at just that moment, his two Plookesian friends appeared standing behind him.

"Hey, Dwick! We're ready to go now!" one of them said, tapping the human with one robotic hand.

"Oh, okay!" Dwicky turned back to Tak, winking. "Well, I've got to go now," he said, rising to his feet and waving. "I'll see ya!"

The three began to walk away. Tak blinked in surprise.

"Um---wait---"

The three aliens turned as Tak stood, eyes narrowed in thought for a moment. "Would you mind if I hitched a ride with you?" she asked, using her falsely innocent voice again. "I was, um...thinking of heading towards that side of the super-cluster anyway."

"Oh! You guys don't mind, do you?"

"Oh, no, the more of the merrier!" one of the Plookesians said, smiling stupidly.

"Yeah, and someone else who can drive! Our auto-pilot's busted," the other explained.

Tak smiled. "Thank you. Come along, MiMi."

The SIR unit looked confused but followed Tak, who in turn followed the three out of the restaurant, walking slightly behind Dwicky, who, she noticed, was still smiling as he walked. To her robot's questioning eyes she offered only a cunning little grin.

Back to Earth. Ah, what were the odds, and a perfect opportunity, too. Another chance to bring justice to Zim, and from the sound of it get her precious ship back as well. And, perhaps just as important, a chance to steal that camera from Dwicky, and stop Dib from getting any evidence that could stand in the way of her plans.

Yes, that was why she was going with Dwicky, Tak told herself. Really.

That stupid little smile of his had _nothing _to do with it.

* * *

**A/N:** How'd that go? A bit too rushed (despite being the longest chapter in this collection), or Dwicky a bit too goofy (my first time writing him, not counting a sort-of example in "Death of the Dib"). Did Tak "open up" too easily? Please review!


	20. RmAThR

**Author's Notes: **Duck Life gave this fic it's 100th review, and as a prize got to decide what the next pairing would be. She chose this one. ...Perhaps you can understand why it took me a while to get to.

**

* * *

**

"Mister...Throbulator?"

"_Uggghhh..._"

Throbulator moaned softly from his bed, blinking blearily as Nurse Blahgixma slithered into the room, leaving her a slime trail on the floor behind her. She smiled with both mouths as she reached his bed, the picture of cheerfulness as always. "And how are we feeling today?"

"Head..._THROBBING!_" Throbulator groaned, and indeed, the veins on his forehead were noticeably bulging with pus-juice.

"Oh, dear," the Glarpekian nurse frowned, placing one slimy tentacle to feel his temperature; gentle as she was, it still felt like a horrendously painful weight pressing down on Throbulator's forehead. "We'll have to get you another de-pusing, won't we?" She pressed a button on the communicator attached to one of her tentacles. "Dr. Xzipulax, could you please send a De-Pusing Drone to Room 15A to assist me?"

"_Glaarg guu-iiignax'x!_" the device responded.

"Thank you!" Nurse Blahgixma smiled back at her patient with both of her mouths. "Don't worry, Mr. Throbulator. We'll have you better right in a—"

There were a serious of small cries from outside, along with one louder voice. "_OH, excuse me, please! Pardon. WHEE! I'm driving!_"

"Oh dear," Nurse Blahgixma said softly, her skin turning a very nervous shade of lavender as some sort of strange robot burst into the room.

"_HELLO!_" the creature said cheerfully, throwing up two arms and grinning inanely."I'm Nurse MOM! What can I do you for, _hmmmmm?_"

Throbulator let out a soft moan and opened his eyes enough to get a look—it was some kind of an android, or a gynoid technically, designed to look like a female of some species Throbulator was not familiar with. It had a generally light-pinkish coloring, a stitch across its face, blue fur on the top of its head and some sort of bright pink..._fin_ or something that went all the way around its waist. It wore a standard white nurse's coat, but underneath Throbulator made out a pair of blue overalls and a pink shirt that didn't quite cover up all of its metallic spine. It also wore gloves, though they were yellow rubber rather than the standard-issue white ones most of the nurses with hands tented to wear.

"Um...yes. Hello..._Nurse,_" the actual nurse said, slurring the word out of her top mouth with distinct displeasure. "Now, we need you for a simple de-pusing, so if you could—"

The robot suddenly gasped, zipping over to Throbulator on its wheeled feet (and making him bite his pillow in pain—agh, the _squeak!_) "OH MY!" it screamed, making another stab of pain go through Throbulator's brain. "What a beautiful baby, Mrs. Thompson!"

"Oh—_no,_ Unit 46, that's not—"

Before Throbulator knew what was happening he was suddenly pulled out of bed into the robot's arms—he let out a cry as the machine rocked him back and forth violently, saying "_Oh, I just want to take you home with me and_—_"_

"_Unit 46_—_agh!_"

Nurse Blahgixma smacked the robot in the back of its head, and it suddenly dropped its screaming "child" back onto the bed, going limp and sparking wildly.

"_Oh..._so sorry," the nurse said kindly, petting her moaning patient gently and helping him back under his sheets. "This model is a _little_ defective. We got it cheap at some ex-Irken Invader's junk sale...don't know _what_ he was doing with it before, but its got all sorts of strange programs that we just can't seem to edit out!"

"_Uggggghhhhh_" was Throbulator's only response.

"Well, I'll go see if I can find a better unit for your de-pusing. You stay here," she said unnecessarily, passing the deactivated robot as she exited the room.

Throbulator sighed and lay his head back down on the pillow, closing his eyes; his head was positively _POUNDING _now, this much excitement and noise was no good for someone in his condition...he let his mind wander, trying not to focus on the pain, and so he didn't even notice at first when the robotic nurse suddenly straightened up again, head sputtering for a moment before she wheeled around slowly and looked down at him. For a moment her memory files whirred, scanning, trying to determine who he was—then they gave up and at random, assigned the little brown alien the designation MALE COUNTERPART PARENTAL UNIT—DAD.

"_Hello, dear!_"

Throbulator jumped, grabbing his head as the noise sent another sharp pain through it. He looked at the robot in shock.

"What? !"

"_Happy anniversary!_" it cried, as suddenly its head burst open and a small blast of confetti shot out. "I'm sorry your breakfast in bed exploded, but _here, _let me go and give you a _BIIIIIG hug!_"

_"What? !_ No—_NO!_"

A scream ripped through the hospital—just about everyone within three floors looked around for the noise, and Nurse Blahgixma was startled out of her question to Nurse Poo-Mar about where a replacement de-puser could be found.

"Oh _no!_"

She slithered back to the room as fast as her legless body could carry her, and when she arrived she turned bright red at the horrible sight—the robotic nurse had lifted Throbulator out of bed again and was squeezing him around the head, and the accumulated pus was being pushed into an enormous growth almost twice as large as the rest of his body.

"_Unit 46, don't—_"

_SPLORCHK!_

Pus suddenly covered all of Nurse Blahgixma's eyes, as well as the robot, the walls and just about everything else in the room. Throbulator let out a cry and a choking noise, then sighed as the robot dropped him back onto the bed, his head deflated and a look of serenity settling on his face.

"I...feel nothing," he said hoarsely, closing his eyes once again.

"_Aw,_ I love you too, dear! _WHEE-HOO!_" the robot cried, before zipping past a stunned Nurse Blahgixma and exiting the room.

* * *

**A/N: **The site erases any more than one hyphen you put in a row, and the exclamation point if you put it right after a question mark. This annoys me.

The next chapter will probably have Gaz in it. Not sure who to pair her with, though...maybe GIR, if I can think of something.


	21. GAGR

**Author's Notes:** I just did an "eating at a restaurant" story two chapters ago. Of course, due to slow updates, that was about six _months_ ago...

Anyway, sorry for the delay. This is one of those pairings that works great in my head (indeed, I thought it was one-sided canon when I first watched the show), yet for some reason it's hard to think of a story to go with it. I hope you enjoy. :-)

* * *

"And on one half I want _cheese,_ and on the other I want _peppers,_ and _pineapples,_ and _beans..._"

"Oh, I'm sorry, we actually don't offer—"

"_AAGGHH! AAAAGGGGHHHH!_"

"Um—sir, sir, please, just calm—"

**"_AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!_"**

"Alright, alright! _Jeez..._"

The waitress walked away, shaking her head, and GIR instantly calmed down, giving a cheerful smile that went unseen through the head of his human suit. Gaz put her face in her hand, and GIR thought that she looked a lot like her brother did when dealing with his master.

"You're so _stupid,_" she muttered, shaking her head.

GIR looked politely confused, his blue eyes shining out from his costume's dark mouth. Gaz rolled her eyes and looked away. GIR shrugged and began to play with his silverware, engaging his knife and fork in an epic battle, making quiet laser sounds that were almost inaudible over the loud noise of the restaurant.

Friday was one of the busiest nights at Bloaty's, full of weary parents and their screeching children, with costumed servers bustling amid the crowd trying to fill their orders. The whole scene reeked of chaos, infringing on Gaz and her natural need for order. Again she wondered why she didn't just order her precious pizza at home, but she shoved that thought away, angrily resisting further analysis. She wanted to eat out, so she was _going _to eat out, and if anyone wanted to challenge that decision she would _destroy_ them, even if the questioner was her own self-analysis.

Their drinks came. GIR stopped playing with his silverware and squealed in delight. Gaz took a sip of her soda; GIR threw the whole glass into the mouth of his costume, then burped loudly.

_Why_ this seemed preferable to home was another question Gaz didn't want to examine too closely.

Gaz was at home, alone, at least half of the days in any given week. Dad would still be at work; Dib was usually fighting Zim, or chasing Bigfoot, or meeting with his stupid "Eyeball" friends, or some other _stupid _activity that at least managed to get him out of Gaz's hair for a while. And usually she liked being alone. But even she got sick of the big, empty house sometimes. And for some reason, even though she always vowed "Thursday next week," that "sometimes" always seemed to fall on Friday nights.

Even though Gaz liked to have pizza on Friday nights (even more so than on other nights.)

And even though she knew it was chaotic and crowded at Bloaty's, the exact way Gaz _didn't_ like it.

And even though she knew that if she didn't get there early, they would run out of free tables.

Which would force her to _share_ with someone.

Gaz gave GIR a look. He blinked and stared back at her, giving a cheerful little wave.

He annoyed her. Really he did.

And yet, every Friday night, _he _was her only companion. Not her father, not her brother, _him._

It was so stupid, Gaz thought.

"You're so stupid," Gaz said again.

"YUP!"

"What are you even _doing_ here every week anyway?"

"Eatin' pizza!"

"No. I mean—" Gaz looked around as though hoping to find the words she wanted hovering around her, then looked back at him. "Why are you here _every week?_ The last six weeks in a row, I wind up sharing a table with you _every _Friday night. Shouldn't you be helping Zim dissect my brother or something?"

"I like the pizza!"

Gaz was starting to get annoyed now, which was neither difficult nor safe. "But don't you get pizza any _other_ days?" she asked, her eye twitching.

"But you're not here on other days!"

"What? ! But what does _that...?_"

She stared at him, anger replaced by confusion. Once again GIR only stared back.

The pizza came. GIR screamed in delight (causing a woman at the next table to spill soda down her shirt) and grabbed a slice off of his overcrowded half, shoving the whole thing directly into his mouth. Gaz took a piece from her saner, cheesier portion and bit in, ecstasy flowing through her as the delicious sauce flowed onto her tongue.

Gaz was a glutton, but she was at least a _slow_ glutton; GIR, on the other hand, had finished his half by the time Gaz finished two slices. As usual he remained seated, watching her eat—once or twice he started to reach for one of Gaz's pieces, but one sharp look was enough to dissuade him for at least a few seconds.

After a few minutes (which felt like _forever_ to GIR) Gaz finished. She dropped her last crust onto her plate amid a pile of others. GIR trembled excitedly; Gaz rolled her eyes and passed the plate to him, and for the next ten seconds he eagerly gobbled them up.

"_MMM!_ I _love_ this place."

Though his face was otherwise hidden, Gaz could see that his eyes were closed in gleeful excitement. He was insane, of course, but there was still something oddly..._nice_ about another person who appreciated pizza as much as she did. Dib, the heathen lunatic that he was, had been known to pass it up for _Chinese food _sometimes.

The bill came, and GIR threw a bunch of money merrily at the waitress, not even waiting for Gaz to pay her usual share. She wondered, vaguely, how the little robot got that money; maybe he stole it from someone on the way there? She knew that asking would never render a cogent answer.

Gaz pushed out her chair and stood up, preparing to walk away without another word. GIR prevented this.

"See you next week? !"

She paused, turning back to him. His eyes were closed in what was no doubt a look of joy again. Gaz rolled her own eyes.

"...Sure."

"_EEEEE!_"

Gaz turned and marched out of the restaurant.

Well.

Maybe there was a reason for these stupid Friday night trips after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Was that a bit awkward, or are my standards just ridiculously high? Please tell me in a review!

Incidentally, the next chapter will have Ms. Bitters. I'll be very impressed if anyone can guess who it is she'll be paired with.


	22. PDABR

**Author's Notes:** I am a complete lunatic for coming up with this pairing. However, I take comfort in knowing that I have Teneery for company in my madness, as she managed to actually guess this insane idea would be next. Which, for some inexplicable reason, meant I had to hurry up and write it quicker than usual.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

She was his greatest creation, and as time went on, he had become obsessed with her.

This was a problem. Poop Dawg had a job to do, and this strange new fixation was interfering with his duties. After all, the Gangsta Specter of Defeat wasn't supposed to limit himself to any one person; he was supposed to be out in the hood spreadin' his misfortune around, yo, keepin' all the bruthas down and maintainin' the natural order and all of that shizz. But he just couldn't pull himself away from her anymore. He was drawn to her, and more and more these days he found himself neglecting his mission just to haunt the back of her classroom, gazing for hours at her dark and miserable beauty.

She had had a hard life—well, obviously, if _he_ had known her for so long. Some people were just naturally unlucky, and Poop Dawg was drawn to those people like moths to a flame, bringing his aura of failure along with him. His influence was woven invisibly throughout all of her disjointed memories, the source of all of her repeated losses, the reason she had become the nasty, resentful creature that she was today, and he loved her for that. She was like a beautiful, _horrible _work of art that he had helped to create, a testament to failure and hopelessness preaching his virtues to a whole new generation of little playas every day.

And yet, she was always beyond his reach.

It was as if his own powers of failure had turned back against him, now; all he could do was hover in the back of her classroom, gazing at her, loving her more and more for every caustic rant and nasty grimace, but actually _showing _himself to her? Loving a mortal ho was forbidden, and anyway, it wasn't like she could ever reciprocate—thanks to him, love had died in her heart a long, _long _time ago.

But _his _love remained, and with it, the obsession.

He knew that he was going to have to stop this eventually—things were starting to fall apart now, misfortune was piling up in this classroom while everything else got neglected. Outside of this room the economy was booming, the divorce rate was dropping and Doc Membrane was pumping out vaccines faster than his colleagues could come up with new diseases. Test scores in the rest of the skool distrikt were higher than ever, while in this one class they were plummeting. Gretchen seemed to be getting uglier, Keef was less popular than ever, and every one of Zim and Dib's fights came to a standstill now, causing them both more and more pain with less and less gain for anyone, but Poop Dawg could barely notice any of these things, let alone care.

His eyes, on his head and inside his mouth, were all on her, his hateful angel at the front of the room, mocking and sneering at all of those failures even as she became more and more secretly despondent herself.

It was horrible for all of them, but Poop Dawg couldn't help it. He was just too obsessed.

* * *

**A/N:** I love taking such ridiculous concepts and trying to write them as serious drama. ;-D Please review and tell me if I managed to pull that off.


	23. ZAGtR

**Author's Notes:** Oh...hey. This fic exists. Now that I'm back into IZ, maybe I should, like...update it or something.

* * *

Gretchen sat at her table alone, watching miserably as all the other couples had fun on the dance floor.

She sighed wearily. This was far from the first time that Dib had stood her up—more like the twentieth—but this was _prom,_ for goodness' sake! He had promised that not even a full-scale Irken invasion would keep him away. And yet here Gretchen sat, alone in the decorated gymnasium, while Dib was off running around town doing who-knows-what.

She was miserable. She was angry. She was—

"Gretchen-hyuman!"

She looked up, then down, and was startled to see the familiar, noseless face of her boyfriend's alien nemesis. He was dressed in a horrible blue tuxedo that looked like it had been made for somebody twice his height, with its sleeves and pants legs rolled up so that he could move. It was so dirty and stained that it looked like somebody had been buried in it. He had also applied a large amount of hair gel to his wig and wore a dying flower in his lapel.

"Zim? What are you doing here?"

"Why, I am _prommening,_ of course," he said, his voice rising an octave or two. "For what disgusting teenager such as myself could resist a chance for hideously romantic activities such as—"

Gretchen sighed again. "Zim, I know what you really are." She cast a bitter look at him. "Shouldn't you be off trying to kill Dib or something?"

Zim looked around. "Why? Is he here?" He climbed onto the chair across from her and stood, augmenting his meager height so that he could look over the heads of the other prom-goers.

"No. I guess he's off chasing a Bigfoot or something." She crumpled up her paper cup, tossing it bitterly across the table. Zim quirked an eye.

"But is this _PROM_ not required? Is not every teenage male supposed to bring his female here for disgusting mating dances?"

"They're _supposed_ to. But I guess Dib thought it wasn't important."

Zim was quiet for a moment, finally sitting down in his seat. He frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, he is a fool, then."

Gretchen looked up, startled. "What?"

"I said he is a **_FOOL!_** As I've _been_ saying for years," Zim added, ignoring all the heads turning in their direction. "Off chasing another of his—_STUPID _hobbies instead of giving proper attention to his love-pig. I feel so sorry for you," he added, his voice dripping with such a syrupy tone that even Gretchen felt suspicious.

"Um...thanks."

"Think nothing of it," Zim said. "After all, out of all the dirt-monsters on this planet, there is none _I_ would rather spend my time with than you."

Gretchen blinked. "Really?"

"Of course. You are the only one of your pitiful species who has ever appreciated the _amazingness_ that is Zim."

Gretchen was surprised, though it did make sense—the only other human Zim willingly interacted with was Dib, after all. Gretchen generally thought the little alien was harmless, and she tried to keep the peace and be nice to him, even if Dib did not like it.

The music stopped, and after a moment a new, softer song began. There was a crowd of people joining or leaving the dance floor, and those who remained were beginning a slow dance. Gretchen sighed, imagining herself out there with Dib holding her in his arms. Zim grimaced to himself for a moment, then jumped down from the chair, puffing out his skinny chest importantly.

"Since your horrible boyfriend has failed to fulfill his romantic duties, perhaps _I_ could accompany you for this revolting ceremony?"

"What? ! Um...I don't know..."

Zim held out his hand to her. Gretchen hesitated, biting her lip with her large front teeth. She knew that Dib would be mad about this if he found out—and he would, since everybody in skool was here to gossip about it. She knew, faintly, that Zim should not be trusted no matter how nice he seemed. Heck, she knew that the two of them would look ridiculous even _trying_ to dance, since she had two left feet and Zim was at least two feet shorter than she was.

And yet...it was _prom._ Had she really slaved all through hi skool and spent a month's allowance on a dress just so she could sit alone and not dance with anybody? Did she really care what Dib thought, if he was going to stand her up to chase after stray cats that he was convinced were chupacabras?

Zim waited, a broad smirk on his face. Gretchen smiled faintly, then reached out to take his hand—

_SLAM!_

_**"ZIIIIIIIIIIM!"**  
_

Gretchen snatched her hand back and spun around, as did everyone else, as the doors flew open to reveal Dib standing in the threshold. People instantly began to snicker at his appearance—he had several cuts and burns all over his face, his glasses were cracked and one of the pants legs of his tuxedo had been torn completely off at the knee, dangling above his shoe. He was drenched in something that smelled foul, and as he dragged his injured body into the gym they saw a green dog hanging by its mouth from the back of his hair scythe._  
_

Zim's green face turned white as Gretchen rushed over to her boyfriend in shock. "Dib! What on Earth happened to you? !"

"That's a good question, Gretchen," Dib hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes never leaving the alien who was slowly backing away from the scene. "Do _you_ wanna guess what happened to me, _Zim?_"

Gretchen's eyes widened. She slowly turned to Zim, who was now yanking nervously on his collar. "A-heh-heh...is it hot in here or is it just me?" he muttered.

Dib continued to tremble with anger. Gretchen's mouth turned into a grimace as she rolled up the poofy sleeves of her dress.

Zim gulped loudly. "Oh, Irk..."

* * *

**A/N:** I can imagine Dib standing Gretchen up to fight Zim, but if Zim is there with Gretchen, well...


	24. RATnR

**Author's Notes:** I'm taking advantage of the new Image Manager thing to use The Illustrious Crackpot's wonderful Skoodge/Gaz picture for this collection. Thanks, IC! ;-)

I've been watching IZ again, so y'all get another update. Also, I have not used Red in a pairing yet and feel this needs to be amended.

* * *

Red stared at the holographic screen in front of him, his bag of popcorn untouched and his expression unreadable.

Purple floated up from behind him, frowning confusedly. He looked over his companion's shoulder for a moment, then reached over and took a handful of popcorn, speaking as he chewed loudly.

"Whatcha lookin' a'?"

"Invader Tenn's review file."

"Oh." Purple swallowed, then turned his head slightly. "Why?"

"She was—is—a surprisingly decorated soldier," Red said, aware that this didn't really answer Purple's question. "I mean, combat scores were kind of low, but she was an expert in engineering and infiltration. That's why we sent her to Meekrob, remember? It's almost impossible to get past their energy readings...it's amazing that she managed to blend in as long as she did."

"...So?"

"_So_ it—it—_agh!_"

The hologram vanished with a wave of Red's hand, and to Purple's surprise he bent down, rubbing the sides of his tall forehead. Purple's frown deepened. "Hey. What's the matter, buddy?"

"I don't...know," Red admitted. "It's just—ever since we got that ransom message from those—'Resisty' morons, I can't stop thinking about her. I mean, what if they—hack into her PAK and discover Irken military secrets? Or torture her if they can't do that?"

Purple scoffed. "Well, that's why she was _supposed_ to self-destruct when they captured her, isn't it?"

"Well, she didn't," Red spat, and Purple was taken aback by his sudden vehemence. Red sighed, shaking his head. "Like I said, I just feel—like I..."

He trailed off. Red couldn't really find a word to describe how he was feeling, except maybe _bad_ or _like throwing somebody out of the airlock._ The closest he could come up with was a word he had heard other species, like Vorts, use once or twice.

_Guilty._

The word made little sense to Red. Oh sure, someone could be guilty of a _crime,_ like treason against the Tallests, but that other sense of the word—feeling bad for doing something wrong—was just weird for an Irken, who if anything prided themselves on doing wrong things as often as possible. And it certainly made no sense for a Tallest—he was all-knowing and all-powerful, after all. He couldn't do anything wrong (well, _that_ kind of wrong), and anyway, this "Invader Tenn" was just one of his soldiers—she served _him,_ and she lived and died based on that duty. It wasn't like she was supposed to _matter _or anything.

"We knew her," Red said after a long moment.

Purple blinked. "Hyuh? We did?"

"From Elite training, remember? I mean, she was too young to be in our class or anything, but she joined right around the time that the two of us were getting out."

"Oh. Okay."

There was another long pause. Red remained with his head down, a bitter expression on his face. Purple just floated awkwardly off to his side, slowly reaching over to grab some more popcorn and chewing it quietly.

"We have to rescue her," Red said, finally straightening in his seat.

The sudden motion made Purple swallow, then hack loudly, pounding on his narrow chest until the popcorn flew out of his mouth. "Huh?! Rescue?!"

"Yeah. To...protect the Empire's security. And stuff." Red hovered up from his chair and over to the communicator. "Tallest to bridge."

"Bridge reporting, sir!"

"Recall all Invaders! They're being reassigned for a mission to rescue Invader Tenn!"

"Um...alright, my Tallest."

Red clicked the communicator off, taking a deep breath. "Maybe this will set things right," he murmured, giving a decisive nod and levitating out of the room.

Purple watched him go, forgotten, his expression still clouded and confused. Then he shrugged, took the last of Red's popcorn and poured it into his mouth, following his friend back to the bridge.

* * *

**A/N:** At some point the site started accepting ?!s again. Yay.


	25. TAGrR

**Author's Notes:** I mention this pairing in the story's summary, so why haven't I written it yet?

* * *

"Are you going to talk, little robot? Or do I need to up the voltage?"

"I like ta talk! Like this: MONKEYS! BLUEBERRIES! SALTED NU_AAAGGGHHH!_"

The room lit up with electricity as the prisoner's tiny body writhed, his mouth open in a high-pitched scream.

Tak cut the charge, then glared down at her captive with a sadistic grin. "Had enough, little robot?"

"WHOO! DO IT AGAIN!"

Tak's jaw dropped. GIR looked at her with a stupid smile on his face, his tongue sticking out slightly. The fact that he was strapped to a torture device with all of his limbs restrained did not seem to faze him in the slightest.

Tak released a barely audible growl. "You annoying little pest! Tell me what Zim's latest plan is!"

"I brought fleas inta the house! They made 'im real mad."

"_AGH!_"

Tak turned, pounding her fist on the nearest piece of machinery. It would be so much easier to just download the information from the little moron's head, but that was too risky: MiMi was still have random fits of insanity from her brief connection to GIR, and hooking him up to Tak's mainframe could totally fry the system. She would have to extract the data in a less conventional manner.

"What will it take to get the information out of you, _hmm?_" Tak said, doing her best to suppress the anger rising in her squeedilyspooch. "A trip to the Krazy Taco? One of those—disgusting chocolate monkey drinks? Something that Zim would never let you have? Just tell me what you want, and I will provide it."

"_Dance for me!_"

"_What?!_"

GIR bobbed his head, at least as well as he could with it strapped to the wall. "Mm-hmm. I got _Mastah_ ta dance...and I got _Dib_ to dance...and I got _Gaz_ ta dance, but I ain't ever got you to."

"_No!_"

She expected the robot to argue further, but instead he just stared at her expectantly. Tak growled again, then moved her legs slightly. GIR kept watching, and she made some vague motions with her arms. The robot let out a high-pitch squeal and she picked up the tempo, making exaggeratedly awkward movements with her limbs and antennae. GIR giggled madly, wiggling along as best he could with his restraints.

"_THERE!_" Tak snapped, ending that idiocy and leaning forward so that her face was less than an inch from GIR's. "Now, what can you tell me about Zim's latest stupid plan?!"

GIR also leaned forward what he little he could, a big, dopey smile still on his face. "You dance real pretty."

Tak leaned back, grabbed her antennae and screamed in frustration.


	26. MAGR

**Author's Notes:** Just in case it wasn't clear, the fact that I write a certain pairing here does not necessarily mean that I support it. The criteria are more whether or not it's rarely-used, and if so, can I come up with a good idea that makes it work?

Good ideas can be horrible sometimes.

* * *

"You are SICK!"

Membrane flinched the slightest bit at his son's outburst. Dib glared at him through a black eye and cracked glasses, shaking with anger, his mind racing. He wanted to punch or kick something, but the best he could do was scream and watch his father cower in front of him.

"I mean, you and, and—and _her,_ and—"

"Now, son...if you just calm down for a minute, you'll see that—"

"See _what, _Dad, huh?!" Dib made a sound that was part gasp, part scoff. "I mean, I'm probably too _insane _to understand it, but _please_ tell me your explanation for why I just saw you making out with _YOUR OWN DAUGHTER?!_"

Membrane took a slow breath, trying to collect himself. "I know you've been snooping in my personal files, son," he began, and and had to quickly interrupt before Dib could respond. "You know that you and your sister were not created as _normal_ little children. You were experiments—"

"AND YOU THINK _THAT_ MAKES IT BETTER?!" Dib screamed, and Membrane was cowed by the vehemence in his voice. "So you're saying, what—we're not your kids anymore? We're just your—little organic sex-toys or something?!"

"Language, son!" Membrane gasped—_as if _I'm _the one acting perverted,_ Dib thought. Then, "I cloned the two of you from the respective DNA of myself and your mother. However—" he started to falter now, beads of sweat flowing from his forehead onto his goggles "since Gaz and I do not share any _genetic_ relationship, we—that is to say—"

"She's made from _Mom's_ DNA, so you didn't think there was anything wrong with you _boning_ her too," Dib sneered. It scared Membrane, somehow, that despite Dib's numerous insanities _he_ was suddenly the one lecturing _him_ with disgust in his voice. "And—hell, is that what Gaz _is_ to you? Just a replacement for Mom? She died and you just figured who cares, I can just wait for her _replacement_ to hit puberty in a couple years?!"

"_Don't you talk to me that way!_" Membrane shouted, trying to use anger to mask his growing sense of shame. "Your mother's death was one of the hardest—"

"What do you think _she_ would say about this, huh?! You—you spent years raising us as your _kids,_ and now—how long has this even been—I—"

Dib seemed at a loss for words now, and he suddenly let out a scream of frustration, spinning on his heels. He grabbed a baseball bat from the corner—for a wild moment Membrane thought that he was going to attack him, but instead Dib threw open the front door, turning back to give his father a look of pure hatred.

"I'm going to Zim's. I'd rather have my organs ripped out by a psychotic lizard than spend tonight looking at either of _you_ freaks."

"Son, please!" Membrane called weakly, holding his hand out to him. "It's...Family Night, and—"

"Oh, I'm sure you and Gaz can think of _SOMETHING_ to do together without me!"

The door slammed; Membrane lowered his hand, suddenly feeling weak. He thought about chasing Dib and instantly dismissed the idea. Instead he slumped onto the sofa, putting his face in his gloved hands and letting out a moan.

How long had he really thought he could keep Dib from finding out about this? What kind of reaction had he been expecting? Even though Dib never listened to reason, Membrane had convinced himself that somehow he could talk some reason into his son, that Dib would fall into line after Membrane's rational arguments proved that his and Gaz relationship was _normal,_ not the sort of strange perversion lesser minds might intrepret it to be.

But he had been kidding himself, and not just about Dib's reaction. Not only had his justifications been ignored, each of them disintegrated before his son and his violent, horrified reaction.

Genetic sexual attraction? Just a fancy term meaning he was trying to replace Gaz's mother. A lack of biological relationship? The Westermark Effect was an observable pattern in every test group on the planet. She was mature enough? She was only a teenager, and more to the point, his _daughter. _Membrane was not one for moral philosophizing, but nor could he justify this with scientific reasoning. His relationship with Gaz was _wrong_—period. He could not claim that she and Dib were his children at one moment and then bring up their unorthodox creation to justify something like _this._

He heard footsteps. He didn't look up, but he could hear Gaz's voice.

"Is he gone now?"

Membrane nodded into his hands. After a moment Gaz sat down on the couch, close to him. Too close.

A long moment passed. "You shouldn't have hit your brother," Membrane murmured finally.

"He shouldn't have come in my room when he thought I wasn't there," she growled.

Another long silence. "His reaction was...regrettable," Membrane said. "But understandable."

"Screw him."

"Language, Gaz." He had only started calling her that recently, and only in private. Otherwise she was simply "daughter," the way that Dib was simply "son."

"No," she said, and her tone was forceful. "He's always ruining _everything._ I'm _not_ going to let him ruin this."

"'This?' Daughter—Gaz, I—this—"

What was _this,_ anyway? How had it started? He wasn't even sure. He had always been close to Gaz, especially in comparison to Dib; the poor boy was so insane sometimes that it was just easier for Membrane to ignore him. Of course, Membrane had grown accustomed to ignoring a lot of things; over time Gaz seemed to be the only person who could really distract him from his work at the lab.

Unlike Dib, Gaz only rarely prompted calls from the skool, and the only real complaint he heard was that she was "angry" and "unsocial." Membrane had never really put much stock in those reports—she had always come off as stoic but perfectly sociable to him. It was only recently that he realized that was because he was her one exception, too—the _only_ person who brought her out of her bitter shell, the one person she wanted to be around when she usually thrived with her lonely Game Slave.

She really wasn't much like her mother. Well, they _looked_ identical, of course, but she had never been this cynical, this introverted. But the effects on him were the same—Gaz brought Membrane out of his own introversion, made him feel in a way he hadn't since her mother had died. And yet...

His thoughts were broken as Gaz suddenly grabbed his hand; he turned to her, and before he knew it she was kissing him. He knew he shouldn't let her—he should pull away—Dib's furious expression flashed through his mind—but...

"I don't care what that moron says," Gaz said. Had she always sounded so fierce? Was this another thing that Membrane had just never noticed before? "I don't care what _anyone_ says. Dib will learn to keep his stupid face out of our business or _else._"

"But—"

Gaz put her hand over his mouth to silence him. "You're the _only_ one I care about." It sounded almost like a threat. "And you care about me too, right?" Still fierce, but with an underlying tone that was vulnerable, pleading.

"I...of course, Gaz. More than anything."

"_Good._"

Gaz kissed him again, and Membrane closed his eyes behind his foggy goggles, trying to remember his old rationalizations.

* * *

**A/N:** Sometimes I look at Dib/Gaz stories out of morbid curiosity. The "actually clones so they're not biological siblings" angle comes up a lot. I just took it in a direction that I think makes more sense.

I feel kind of dirty now. :-(


	27. PATnR

**Author's Notes:** I've passed 200 reviews and also have 50 favorites! :-D My 200th reviewer was not signed in and thus cannot be contacted, but since ZimsMostLoyalServant was #201 he got to pick the newest pairing. Enjoy!

* * *

"_Pttb! Pttb!_" Purple spat. "What the heck is this stuff?!"

"It's called dirt, My Tallest."

"Well, it tastes awful!" he said, hovering up from where the impact had thrown him. He looked around. The ship had crash-landed in an alien jungle, forming a large crater surrounded by strange-looking trees. "Where are we, anyway?"

"I don't know, My Tallest," Invader Tenn said. "The ship's navigation computer is completely destroyed. As is, uh...the rest of it."

"Well, _that's_ stupid! Wait," he said as a thought struck him. "The _whole_ ship?"

"Yes, My Tallest."

"Then how are we supposed to get back to the Massive?"

Tenn's stiff pose shifted uneasily, her antennae falling onto her head. "I, uh, don't know that either, sir. I believe we have no choice but to stay here and wait to be rescued."

"_Wait?!_ Well, how long will that take?"

Tenn's pose finally faltered, and she gave a halfhearted, awkward shrug.

"_Ugh!_ You're useless." Invader Tenn drooped sadly as the Tallest turning around and drew himself up to his full and impressive height. "Could somebody _competent _give me some information, please? And while you're at it, I want some nachos! Where the heck..."

He opened his eyes and blinked. Oh, right. They had crash-landed on this planet _alone._ There were no other servants to help him.

No Massive to protect him from incoming attacks.

No computers to analyze the situation and make him more snacks.

No _Red._

Purple suddenly made a choking noise and hugged himself. His eyes had gone wide, and he spun around, staring at the whole scene again with absolute horror. The alien forest around them suddenly seemed much darker, the crackling of the leaves far louder, more sinister and dangerous.

"_WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?!_" he screamed suddenly, backing up until he ran into the broken ship. "How the heck are we gonna _survive_ down here?!"

He bent down and began to hyperventilate. Invader Tenn quickly rushed over. "Calm yourself, My Tallest! I'm sure that Tallest Red will begin searching for you (and maybe me too) at the earliest opportunity."

"But—but what are we gonna do until then, huh?! I mean—what are we gonna eat?! Ugh—I'm so hungry!"

He grabbed his impossibly narrow abdomen and fell to the ground, even though he had eaten less than an hour before and his armor had anti-gravity generators built in. Tenn paused, then climbed inside the ruins of the ship. She emerged a minute later and saluted again, holding up a bag of chips.

"I found these in the emergency supplies, sir!"

Purple looked up, smiled and immediately snatched the bag, practically pouring its contents down his throat in less than a minute. Tenn watched, feeling slightly awkward. After licking up the last of the crumbs Purple discarded the bag and floated up again, his breathing hard but a bit more steady.

"Okay—I think I'm feeling better now," he said. Then his antennae fell. "So, uh—what do we do now?"

"Um—find shelter?" She glanced back at the damaged Voot Cruiser. "The ship's structure should be intact enough to provide basic protection from the elements."

"Okay, good! And what else?"

"Well, we'll need to monitor the area for hostile lifeforms."

"Okay." He nodded. "And?"

"...I could put on a puppet show if you're bored?"

"_AWESOME!_" he said, clapping his hands together and grinning like a smeet. He sighed, letting his arms fall limply by his side. "Thanks, Invader. You're a really good slave to have around at a time like this."

Tenn stood up a little taller and hoped that the Tallest didn't notice her blush.


End file.
